Brownie Bonanza
by Most Fantastical
Summary: Post Like Father Like Son - Jim's keeping busy; he's helping Claire with her rehearsal - scratch that, now he's in a play. And he wants to keep up with lessons, but the market has been hit with stonescale and the itching is driving everyone nuts. And the tiny creatures that have invaded New Trollmarket might be an issue…wait, what?
1. Chapter 1

Hello again everyone, I hope this story finds you well. A few notes regarding this tale:

It takes place after Like Father Like Son. If you don't read that one first you will be very confused. I have below a brief synopsis of important occurrences in that story, but I highly recommend you read it. It'll make much more sense if you do and smaller plot threads won't connect unless you read it.

 _Jim and friends discover that his father that left years ago did so because he's actually King Arthur, and has been pursued by Mordred for hundreds of years. Mordred is the son of Arthur and Morganna, but was raised by Merlin until he was abducted and twisted into a dark being by Morganna. In the meantime Jim's friends and family work together to create a changeling stone to allow him the ability to shift between human and troll form. They succeed._

 _Along with several changeling children coming to join New Trollmarket, Mordred is successfully freed from Morganna's magic and is living in Arcadia with Arthur, aka James Lake Sr. Toby and his grandmother moved to New Jersey as James is now in Arcadia and able to protect it, and Barbara and Strickler also moved to New Jersey together and were engaged to be married._

Again, you should really read it if you want to know what's going on. At any rate, please enjoy this shorter tale – I must also state that I do not, at this time, foresee integrating any plot points from 3 Below or Wizards unless they fit within the narrative I have planned. So if it turns out Toby is an alien as some muse or some such plot point, it won't feature in this narrative. That does include aliens in general; I don't see Aja or Krel featuring at all at this time, save for some minor passing reference.

Anyway, please enjoy the second tale in the cycle I'm spinning.

* * *

Brownie Bonanza

* * *

Chapter 1

The Difference a Few Months Make

* * *

She turned swiftly, shivering. "Who's there? I hear you!"

"The master of this castle. The one you trespass in." This reply made her draw up short, wary.

"I…I beg your pardon. I'm seeking my father, an old merchant man. Have you given hospitality to such a person? He hasn't come home and he was due yesterday, but his horse arrived!"

"He rots in my dungeon. He too trespassed in my home, and I suffer no disturbance in my solitude." The page turned. "You at least had reason. Begone and do not return or you won't find me so lenient."

"No! My father – he would never have come here unless he had to! The weather must have forced him to seek shelter and your home was the only place. Please, show mercy on him!" She fell to her knees, pleading. "We would never return, never disturb you again! He couldn't have known!"

He scoffed. "He has had the misfortune of seeing my face. I cannot let him leave and speak of me, or hunters will come daily to my door. Leave before you too see it and must join him. I will not-"

A distant curse broke Claire's focus. She straightened. "Darn it, I was really hitting my stride. What's going on out there?" Jim put down the script he'd been reading from and sighed.

"Guess they need more stonescale balm." He got out of the chair in the corner of his alcove and Claire stood, brushing her jeans off. "I can't believe how fast it moves. Blinky told me about it but he never mentioned how contagious it is, I've seen five new cases just this evening." He walked beside her, down toward Blinky's alcove. "Anyway, you're going to be a great Belle. You've got this stuff memorized perfectly.

Claire took his arm as they went. "I appreciate the vote of confidence. We've got three weeks until the play and the guy playing the beast hasn't been to the last two practices. I practice more with you than I do with him." She sighed. "Be honest, am I too shrill? I want to be vulnerable without being whiny."

"You sound great. Not too shrill." Claire relaxed when he smiled. "C'mon, you earned this role. You went up against college students and still got it!"

"Only four other girls tried out. But I'll take it." It was a little hard to be excited; it was purely volunteer work, not a professional production really. There wasn't any money to be made off of it, and the audience was going to be a bunch of kids. And yet the idea of playing Belle, giving kids a magical performance – maybe someone in the audience being impressed with an ingenue in a tiny charity play? – lit a fire in her heart.

The heartstone chamber smelled of lichen and herbs. Nomura sat beside the glowing rock in human form, chopping diligently at a fat, dark root. When she finished she pushed it aside and Toby dumped the slices into a battery operated food processor and reduced it to sludge. This he poured into no end of cheap plastic containers, slapping a lid on each one. "Thank you for coming to Itch Relief Central, y'all come back now." He handed a full container to NotEnrique, who was fiercely scratching at his diaper.

"Please don't scratch in public." Claire crouched sympathetically beside him and took out a pen, using one end to scrape between his shoulder blades. The changeling immediately sighed, eyes blissful.

"I can't stand this itching. Stonescale is bleeding awful." All along his back was an ashy, gray substance, almost like a fungus. It grew in wave patterns, looking a little like a crocodile's scales, and Claire winced. "I can't believe it takes two weeks to clear up."

"We didn't used to get it," said another troll, looking miserable. "It's this titchy heartstone, it barely keeps us awake let alone healthy…"

"Sod off, I'm not listening to more griping," another snapped. "It comes in spring every year, it's just a bad case this time."

NotEnrique picked up his container and glanced at Claire. "We ain't got any baby bathtubs, do we? It'd be good for dunking myself in this goop."

"No, but I'll help you with your back. _Just_ your back," she added firmly.

"Thanks love, and no worries, I can handle everything else. Stubby arms is all." She opened the container and scooped up a handful of the cool, earthy liquid and slathered it on his back, bristling quietly at the grainy, chunky feeling of his stone skin. He sighed contentedly again. "You're an angel sis."

Back relieved, NotEnrique took off with the rest of the goop down the nearest tunnel. Jim had taken a place next to Nomura and was cutting a root with a quick, precise motion. "Looks like it's spreading faster than we thought it would." Jim looked worried. "I thought with the personal grooming tips we gave it might help curb the spread…"

"You told trolls to take baths more than once a week. I could have told you that wouldn't happen." Nomura passed another set of roots to Toby. "It'll pass. Yet another benefit of human form."

Claire wiped her hands off on her jeans. "How are Blinky and Aaarrrgghh? Have you seen them Toby?"

"Blinky's in his alcove researching other remedies and treatments, Aaarrrgghh is finding more funkus root." Toby yawned. "Wingman's got a little stonescale but he likes the hot springs, so he's actually pretty clean and keeping it in check."

Claire looked to Jim, watching him slice the roots. What a difference a few months had wrought.

The worst of winter was over and under the chill of the air was the promise of spring, of new buds and leaves. Even underground there was a stirring, and it wasn't just because everyone was itchy.

Jim had lost the pinched, pale look that had clung to him after his return to human form. His cheeks were flush with color, eyes bright, movements sure. Claire wasn't sure she'd ever get used to it, seeing him healthy and happy again – she hoped she didn't. Even now, looking at Jim made her marvel at what they'd managed to do together. Soon he'd turn seventeen and Claire fidgeted. She wanted to do something special, but Jim had never liked his birthday. Not since James had vanished.

But with James back in Arcadia and looking after Mordred, where did that leave things? A party didn't sound great, and with everyone so uncomfortable it probably wouldn't pan out. Claire helped Toby pour the substance into the containers. "I don't suppose Merlin might be able to help out? He's been so good with potions to make the heartstone grow."

"Do my ears deceive me? Someone is saying I've been helpful?" The wizard approached carrying a duffel bag and wearing what amounted to sweatpants and a hoodie. "Unfortunately fixing troll maladies isn't my forte. I'd recommend Mordred but he's only really dealt with human injuries, not disease. Easing the symptoms is the best bet for now."

"Aw, look who's being helpful and offering good advice?" Merlin scowled at Toby who pointed at him and mouthed, "You are!" Toby moved another container over. "All joking aside, are you sure right now is a good time to go? Your studies have been hidden for hundreds of years. What are the chances somebody stumbles across one in the next month?"

"Not high. But the more artifacts and information we have available the better. Hence why I've been bringing some of the more useful artifacts from Morganna's studies where I find them. And now that the market is stable, it's as good a time as ever." Merlin adjusted the bag. "I'll be gone for about four weeks. I do have this…cell phone now." He pulled it out of his pocket and held it as if it were a dead fish. "You may call me if something happens. Or…text."

"Remember the tip list." He muttered something under his breath. "What do you do when someone does something kind for you?" Claire continued.

"Thank them. Don't take kindness for granted."

"And if a waiter or waitress is slow?"

"Be patient, they've got a lot of other things to balance."

Jim passed another set of chopped roots over. "And if you get into an emergency or see a crime where no one is in immediate danger?"

"I dial nine-one-one in the United States, nine-nine-nine in the UK and Ireland." Merlin tapped one foot. "I'll be going now. I'll take the gyre to Europe but I'll likely be traveling on foot or horse after that."

"Be safe. And taxis aren't too outrageous. Remember to convert the currency, I sent you a culture cues tips for politeness!" Claire watched him leave the room with concern, trying to think of a hundred different things the man ought to know before he headed out alone. "Think he'll be okay on his own?"

"You want to nanny the old guy? Besides, he's got magic. I put our contact info into his phone so if he gets into trouble he can in touch with us." Toby sealed the last container. "All right, I think we're good. For a while anyway." He rubbed his fingers, wincing. "Where's Merlin dumping the magical stuff anyway?"

"It's all locked in the same room as the magic items we salvaged from Heartstone Trollmarket. The last thing we need is something accidentally opening a cursed box or something." Jim stood and brushed his jeans off, stacking a few of the containers. "Dad keeps sending items they're finding, Draig loves to dig and snoop. He's on the lookout for the stones created by the previous Trollhunters, but anything is helpful."

"What about the Soothscryer? Any chance Draig can dig that out? It'd be cool to be able to tell Kanjigar and all the others face to face that Gunmar is O-U-T." Toby picked up several more containers and between the four of them they were able to carry all of them. "You think maybe…Draal would be there? He was a trainer for the Trollhunter, y'know?"

Jim slowed a little. "I hope so. Kanjigar might hate me – I wasn't able to protect him. And we weren't able to stop Gunmar and Angor Rot from getting the staff. I'd like to be able to apologize."

"I don't know, I think Draal would carry you around on his shoulders for killing Gunmar. He went out like a hero." Claire nudged Toby, nodding toward Nomura. Toby clammed up but the changeling shrugged.

"He was a decent troll. Kind of an idiot sometimes, but a lovable idiot." They reached the Troll Pub and packed the containers into the refrigerator. "How is your mother? She and Strickler just got back from their honeymoon." she continued, obviously looking for a new subject.

"Yeah, I'm avoiding their house right now. Since they're…you know…"

Jim cringed. "Well, you know what married people do." Nomura snickered. "It's not funny! I brought some breakfast by one morning and Strickler was shirtless. Shirtless! I can't even process the thought of my mom and Strickler…gah!" Nomura openly laughed. "They're married, they're happy, and that's all that matters."

"Well she's been in a good mood lately," Nomura said with a smirk. Jim glared at her. "Hey, your mind went there, I was just observing."

Toby stuck his tongue out. "Much as I'd love to think about my best friend's mom and history teacher excessively canoodling, I think I have to finish…four projects. Yep, four. High school is a lot harder when the teachers don't know you're busy protecting a civilization." He checked his phone. "Oop, gotta go anyway. Nana's doing a grocery trip and I gotta give the evil eye to the old guy on the bus that keeps hitting on her. I swear, once I get my license I'm gonna drive her everywhere. And Darci is staying with us this weekend, so I'm taking her to coffee." He blushed. "I sound like a grownup. Coffee date, y'know?"

Jim nodded and gave him one of the containers. "Just in case Dictatious gets the symptoms." Toby bowed and jogged for the exit. "Speaking of homework, I have to get to it as well."

Claire reluctantly checked her own phone. "And I've got work in an hour. I should probably get going. If you get hung up on Spanish I can help after I get off."

"Don't worry, I can handle most of it. Except the future – participle – conjugation…ninja-robot something." Jim scratched his head. "I think I just need to accept that I'm not good at spanish."

Claire tutted and gave him a quick kiss. "Tell you what, I'll give you something to translate by the time I get back. Te quiero cariño, y espero que tengas una buena noche ayudando a los trolls que pican."

Jim blinked. "I think I got the first part. It was 'I love you,' but the rest I'll have to work on." He pulled her close for a peck on the cheek. "Love you too. Have a good day." Claire waved goodbye and headed out, stuffing her script into her purse so she could read it on lunch break.

* * *

Gnome Chompsky was to blame for it all in retrospect.

The gnomes had no end of tunnels and grooves and tiny niches they slipped in and out of, barely avoiding the stomping feet of the trolls. Every gnome worth his hat could find a way into any room. And so it was when Sally lost her wedding ring off her plastic thigh, he mounted a search that would have impressed even the most cynical soul.

He hunted through the dollhouse they shared in the Domzalski household, under Toby's bed, and everywhere on the floor he could think of. Turning up no leads he moved the search to New Trollmarket, asking his fellow gnomes if they'd seen the previous item. None of them had, and Chompsky slowly shifted from searching in logical places to illogical ones in his panic.

He swam in the hot springs, checked under every dish, searched every pocket he could access. Nothing. He was nearly swallowed when he checked troll mouths as they snored, could have been crushed as he swept every inch of the tunnels he frequented. Zilch.

And so it was a very frazzled, haggard gnome that ignored the lock on the door containing magical artifacts and found another tunnel into it. Perhaps one of his friends had seen the ring and thought it a magical one? It did have a certain sparkle to it. Chompsky landed on a stack of books, most of them will dark magic runes on them, and climbed down.

Large crystals shimmered as he passed and stacked neatly nearby were several crates, and atop these was a carved wooden box. Chompsky paused to admire it – it had been handmade, and had deer and tiny creatures carved into it. He looked at the lock on it and cocked his head, muttering. Would someone have put the ring into the box? It seemed a sensible thing to do with such a lovely item.

If Chompsky had his wits about him, he would have realized the lock he broke was rusted and ancient, and the box couldn't have been opened if it fell apart so easily. He also would have realized opening a box in a sealed room to contain magical artifacts was very, very dangerous.

But none of this occurred to him before he popped the lid open and pushed it back on its hinges. There was nothing inside except what looked like a tiny white star, glowing prettily. Chompsky stared, transfixed.

Then the box exploded and a tidal wave of furry, tiny creatures no bigger than himself came flying out of the light as if they were fireworks. Chompsky yelped and ducked under the nearest book, cowering as the raucous cackles filled the room and the furry things bounced and leaped.

Yes, it was technically his fault. And he didn't find the ring either, so it was a bad day for him all around.

* * *

"Yeah, it's a lot of pages, but the gist is that total government control sucks." Darci prodded the book. "Oh, that's where Winston and Julia get it on."

Toby blinked and peered at the page. "Oh. Yep, that is what they are doing. And that's a form of rebellion, right? Fighting against the man, because the man is all about passion for the Party, not people, right?"

"You are correct sir." Darcy sipped at her coffee. Late afternoon under a coffee shop overhang was a lazy, lovely thing, and homework was about as interesting as a hangnail. And about as much fun. "So much of school is just knowing how to BS the system. I hate to say it, but if you know what the teachers want to hear you can just waffle through a paper without even thinking."

"I think only smart people can do that. I'm muddling along down here." Toby finished the page and sighed. "Caught up. Just in time to get another load this Monday. Oh well." He pushed his books into the bag at his feet. "What's up in Arcadia?"

"Not a ton. Dad's trying to keep the Creepslayerz reined in. But the school is abuzz for prom. The spring fling is in a couple months but now that we're juniors, prom is all anyone's talking about." Darci took another drink and Toby leaned toward her.

"Well Darci, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?" He said it confidently but not with assumption – he knew she loved him, and he resolved to never take it for granted. She smiled at him.

"I will Toby D. Though you know you've got a ticket regardless, the school said it didn't matter if you transferred." Toby nodded – the school allowed an additional ticket purchase for each student that attended Arcadia Oaks High, mainly for those that dated outside their own school.

"Yeah. I was thinking about maybe asking Claire and Jim if they wanted to come along. If we can each get an extra ticket." Darci brightened at this.

"That's an awesome idea! And Mary's hunting for a date but she'll come too. Ask them when you get the chance." She touched his cheek affectionately. "You're such a sweetheart. I can take the couch you know, you don't have to give up your bed while I'm visiting."

"Milady, to offer my bed for your presence is an honor and a joy." Toby took her hand and gave her a fingers a kiss. They smelled of coffee and hand lotion. She smiled that certain, pleased, warm smile. "You're an angel, Darce. So tell me about the softball game. Did Coach Lawrence really get beaned in the head again?"

* * *

Strickler erased the whiteboard and scanned his students. "And that, students, is why hubris was considered one of the greatest flaws in Greek tradition. Odysseus was free and clear until he taunted Polyphemus, and his arrogance resulted in the long term destruction of his ships and crew."

Abriga put up her hand. "Did that really happen?"

"Not quite as the humans think it did. Polyphemus was actually a jotnar, not a cyclops. He was missing an eye so the confusion was easy for uneducated humans." The classroom was clean and bright, outfitted with no shortage of educational posters. Secondhand desks scrubbed clean provided seats for the children, and even if it was a far cry from the technologically forward high school he spent his days at, the sight of the children reading at their old desks with such interest made him proud. "Now I know everyone's excited to go off and play, but I have news regarding your crystal formation experiment." All of them sat up. Strickler ducked behind his desk and pulled out a tray. "Each of you had at least some rock candy form. And you can take part of it as a treat today. It's one of a few human foods that hold equal appeal to humans and trolls." They burst into cheers and he lifted a finger. "However! If anyone misbehaves or starts bouncing off the walls, that will be all they see of it!"

"Yes Mr. Strickler," they chorused. Strickler smiled to himself; in truth a few of their crystal formation experiments hadn't turned out, either not boiled long enough or tampered with too much to set. But the important thing was learning, and it had been easy to set up an extra bunch to grow so each of them had some candy. They wouldn't know the difference.

Walter Stricklander, making candy for a class of changeling children with his wife, Barbara Stricklander. What change a few months wrought.

Married life was…strange. But it was strange in the same was as an unexpected gift. He woke up most mornings to Barbara already being up and around, ready to go to work. Some days he woke to her still in her scrubs, her head against his shoulder, glasses falling off her face, hair wildly askew.

It was wonderful. He would kiss her and settle her in bed, take off her glasses, and go to put the coffee on. When she got up, bleary and rubbing her eyes, she would spot him and smile and Strickler would wonder why he had been so fortunate to end up where he was.

He couldn't even complain about her cooking. It was tolerable in his troll form, and she tried so darn hard. He was no great shake at cooking himself.

He handed the bags of candy to each child as they came up. They bid him cheerful farewells and as the last ones headed out he swapped to human form, appreciating the impunity from the stonescale outbreak. Barbara would come by later to help the children clean up and disinfect the market, and he privately felt proud that changelings were flexible enough to adapt to disease in a way that most trolls seemed unable to be. "Um, Mr. Strickler?" He caught Carina's eye, lingering against the door. The pink changeling looked embarrassed. "Would it be okay if I took more of the candy I made? It's not for me, I promise."

"Milagro's a little young for sugar." She shuffled her feet.

"It's not for him either. It's for…someone else. Not one of the other kids."

Strickler's brows rose. "Ah. Someone you fancy?"

"No! Well…I don't know. They're nice, that's all." She fiddled with the bag in her hands. "I can give them this instead, it's fine."

Strickler's heart softened. "It's all right Carina, I trust you. You can take the rest of what you made." She brightened and removed her pack from her shoulder, drawing out a clean, white paper bag. A bow was on it, and Strickler slipped the second bag of candy inside. "Good luck Carina. Remember, you're presenting first Monday evening. I look forward to your report on Deya."

"Thanks Mr. Strickler! Have a good weekend!" She ran out the door, dark hair flying behind her.

* * *

Carina was a sensible girl. She had to be to take care of her infant brother after the compound had been destroyed. But in matters of the heart she the same as any other kid. She knew that her chances were…zero. Okay, point-zero-zero-zero-one. Maybe. But it didn't change the fact that she wanted to give him a present.

She avoided the bigger trolls in the passages, trying not to be too obvious about it. Most of them understood – stonescale was the pits and it was common to see glowing balm on their arms or legs to keep the itching contained. Some even smiled as she passed. Even Grenus, who was neutral at best, nodded as she went on her way. He hadn't been bothering any of them and he hadn't said any more mean things about Jim, so she was willing to leave him alone if it made him happy.

She came to the alcove and took a deep breath. You're just giving him an early birthday present, she told herself. Be cool. Be calm. She peeked inside and knocked on the stone.

Jim's room was very different from how it had been when he was a troll. He had a bed now, not a cot – humans were soft and didn't deal well with such hard places to sleep – and clothes in a dresser since he didn't constantly wear the armor. He was sitting in the corner in a chair, lips pursed as he read a book, but he looked up and smiled at her. "Hi Carina. What's up?"

Her heart rate. Carina waved and entered the room, fighting the urge to run and hide. "We just got out of class. We were learning about Odysseus and the cyclops."

"Oh, cool. I'm doing the same thing." He looked sheepish. "You guys are really smart to already be reading that. Or I'm a remedial student, one or the other. Maybe both."

"We're not actually reading it yet, he's just telling us about history. We were talking about Homer and the values of the Greeks. Apparently 'hubris' is a big deal and a lot of their heroes died because of it." Carina shrugged. "I think it's a fancy word for pride."

"Gotcha. I'm having a grand old time reading the Odyssey." He turned the page. "Everything okay? The kids haven't gotten stonescale, have they?"

"We're okay, your mom is making sure we're healthy. And she's bringing more soap and stuff today." She checked her pack. "So, um, Jim. It's your birthday soon, right?"

"Yeah, three weeks. I'm getting old, seventeen." He said this jokingly and Carina felt inside her pack and withdrew the bag, hiding it behind her back and trying not be nonchalant. "Did you need something? You look like you've got something to say."

"Oh, I just…well, we made rock candy in class last week to learn about crystal formation and chemistry. It's like crystal but sweeter, Mr. Strickler said some humans like it a lot." She steeled her nerves and continued, "Um, I actually made extra. I thought…maybe…you'd like some? For your birthday." Bringing out the package, she offered it bashfully. She'd found blue ribbons in the craft bin for their art lessons with Nomura, and it had been a painstaking process to create the bow. It made the bag look festive.

Jim set the book aside. "Carina, that's really sweet of you! You made it yourself?" He accepted it as if he'd been given a precious gem. "Thank you, I'll try it after dinner." He offered her a friendly hug and Carina was glad he wasn't in troll form. He was cute as a human but she might have fainted, he was so tall and handsome as a troll. He smelled good – did all humans smell good? Maybe it was cologne. Or cinnamon, he cooked a lot.

Carina tried to keep the dopey grin off her face. "Are you going to do anything fun for your birthday?"

He released her and placed the gift reverently on his nightstand. "I don't know, it's been so busy. And I'm not much of a partier. Last year Blinky and the others planned a surprise and I almost had a heart attack." Jim headed for the entry. "And with the stonescale outbreak, I don't think anyone's in the mood to party anyway."

Following him, Carina kept a careful distance. "Do you need help handing out the itch relief or anything?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather you stay as far from anyone with stonescale as possible. I don't want you to catch it." She cheered internally – he was worried about her. Granted he did that for everyone, but still. "But if you'd like to pick up some soap for the kids' baths tonight that'd be great. We've got some left before Mom brings the next batch."

"Okay, sounds good." He led the way to Blinky's alcove. It was much neater than it had been before, boxes stacked in the corners and under the desk, most of his experiments on a single workbench. The troll was muttering and Jim paused.

"Blink? Something up?" The troll turned around and Carina fought a giggle – he had a giant, curly mustache drawn on his face in black marker and a soul patch under his lower lip. Jim put a hand to his mouth, stifling his own laughter. "Uh…you've got something on your face."

"Yes. I've noticed." The troll sounded cross. "I would like to know which of the gnomes thought it a good idea to sneak in while I was napping and draw on my face. This is permanent ink!" He rubbed at the stone. "I'll need a cleaner to get it off!"

"What makes you think it was a gnome?" Jim took a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Blinky. The troll pulled a bottle of liquid from a shelf and dabbed the cloth with it, swiping it over his face.

"Because I had locked the door to my sleeping quarters and it was still locked when I woke. Only gnomes could have slipped in." He gestured up toward the ceiling. "The holes in the system are a route for tiny miscreants!"

The marker came off and Jim frowned, climbing onto the workbench to examine the opening. "Hello? Anyone in there?" A chittering laugh reached the room and Carina blinked. Jim looked at Blinky slowly. "That…doesn't sound like a gnome." He climbed down, still looking up. "If someone's in there, please come out. You're not in trouble."

Blinky grunted. "Much."

Something immediately dropped from the opening and Carina hid behind Jim, feeling safer in spite of his skinny form. "What is it?" About four inches tall, it was brown and furry like a squirrel but it had the stone feet and hands of a troll. It had long, pointy ears and a clever, mousy nose with bright black eyes. A long, whiplike tail with a tuft of fur on the end swayed behind it.

Blinky's ire disappeared in place of fascination. "Why…it's a brownie!" He knelt to examine the tiny creature. "They haven't been sighted in centuries!"

"What's a brownie?" Jim asked. The tiny creature jabbered merrily and scratched behind its ear.

"Similar to gnomes, they're a small class of non-troll beings in the troll family. Mischievous little creatures, they're also known to be helpful and friendly. At least, before they all disappeared." Blinky frowned in thought. "I wonder where it came from?"

Jim hesitantly offered a hand to the tiny being, who sniffed his fingers and hopped into his palm. "Are you lost?" It shook its head and babbled again. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. Do you have any friends? Brownies, like you?" It nodded vigorously. "Well, I'm Jim. I'm the Trollhunter. Blinky is New Trollmarket's elder. And this is Carina, she's one of the people that lives here." She waved faintly and the creature waved back. "Do you need shelter? Can you find your friends so we can get an idea of how many of you there are?"

It nodded and put its stony paws to its mouth and let loose a shrill, piercing whistle. Jim looked up, and Carina heard what sounded like a huge current of water in a tight pipe, about to burst. "Uh, that sounds like a lot of-"

Hundreds of tiny, furry creatures came pouring out of the hole in a thick wave and soon they were waist deep in brownies, all cackling and giggling and chittering. Jim lifted Carina , as she was shorter and yelped when the things flooded around her. He let her clamber onto his back and looked around with wide eyes.

"Oh dear."

End of Chapter 1

* * *

I'm hardly the first person to make a Beauty and the Beast connection for our lovebirds, but I will say I've been thinking on this story for a month or two, so no other tales have inspired this particular plot thread.

Also, no previews in this story. Because.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, and I hope you're all well. Another chapter is ready – it's been a busy week so I couldn't update as quickly as I wanted to. I hope you enjoy the latest offering.

* * *

Chapter 2

Welcome to the Market

* * *

Claire entered her apartment and immediately kicked off her heels. "'Sure I can come in on Saturday to help clean the office. Oh, you also need that report? No problem!' Why do I do this to myself?" She flopped onto the sofa and felt the pressure on her feet fade into blissful nothing. "Rehearsal tonight…how long have I got?" Checking her phone, she calculated the time she had between now and when she had to arrive at the university theatre. There was enough time to swing by New Trollmarket and give Jim a crash course on his Spanish assignment.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she dropped it on her front. She sat up and started pulling off her jacket as she answered, heading to her closet to change to something less stuffy. "Kim? What's wrong?"

"Jeff's out. No way he'll be able to play the beast." The girl's voice was miserable, and Claire's breath caught in her throat. "You know how he's been missing practice? Turns out he has mono. Like, _major_ mono. He's going to be in bed for a month."

"Oh my gosh! Is he going to be okay?"

"Definitely, but he needs to rest. He hasn't had it long; you should be okay." Claire had not kissed Jeff – an old theatre trick of holding the face and turning slightly away from the audience made it easy to fake – and she'd have noticed by now if she had mononucleosis. "I called his understudy to see if he was available. _He's_ fractured his leg in three different places as of yesterday morning. He fell down a flight of stairs. We don't have a beast."

Claire paused in changing, holding the phone tight to her ear, heart thumping painfully. She'd hoped so hard for a part in a play and now it was falling apart. "But the kids! They'll be so disappointed. Is there anyone you know that might be able to do the part? Maybe someone who did it before?"

"I don't know. I'm writing down all my potential contacts now. We were already on a shoestring budget without trying to find a replacement." Claire checked herself in the mirror as she listened, much more comfortable in leggings and her old skirt and Papa Skull ensemble. "I'm sorry, this isn't your problem. I will absolutely make sure the theatre instructor knows how awesome you are, I'll find you a new role if this falls through."

"Hey, that's quitter talk. I'll keep an ear out for someone that's played the beast. It's not so different from the Disney movie, if we find a real fan they might be able to make it work." Claire loved the animated version, surely they could find someone at least passable. "Come on, let's not give up yet. I've been practicing my part; if you read the beast's role tonight, we can still rehearse."

Kim sighed gratefully. "Claire, you will make Broadway with that attitude. Practice is still on, I'll see you in a couple of hours!"

Claire had met people like Kim in the high school theatre department. They desperately wanted to entertain the world but were so timid in the spotlight that they operated through other people to make a show, never really getting to be _in_ it but happy enough being _part_ of it. Claire respected people that wanted to make others smile like that. Even if they were really awkward.

The cast members were supportive and warm, and being around people that loved acting was infectious. Claire had wondered if maybe they would be angry at a teen getting the lead, but these people weren't doing it for money. This was a play for children, a chance for low income families to be introduced to theatre at no cost. It was the college's way of expanding the arts without spending a lot of money, banking instead on the passion of its students for theatre. Claire had heard about it via flyer and wanted to be part of it. And these actors and actresses, at least, were glad to have new blood in the group.

She did, of course, know someone who might be able to play the role, someone that had read through the play a dozen times and probably knew the beast's every line. But Jim was already busy with his schoolwork and New Trollmarket, and the last thing she wanted to do was take up what little breathing time he had by pushing him into a role in a play. Because she knew if she asked, he would do it. No hesitation. Which was super sweet, but he would stretch himself too thin if he wasn't careful.

Alberto was reading on his phone when she returned. "Same as always, Ms. Nuñez?"

"You know it. Thank you so much Alberto, I know I'm all over the place." He smiled and shook his head.

"My only business is getting my client to and from their destination safely. Anything else is above my pay grade." Claire felt a little cosseted having a chauffeur, but considering the size of Hoboken and how much traveling she had to do, it was an indulgence she was grateful her Papa had insisted on.

Alberto always dropped her off in the same place, and it was a short hike into the woods before she reached the rocky structures and drew out her key ring. One key was orange and glowed as she approached. It was a much more portable horngazel than the rock she'd toted around before. She drew an arc and entered New Trollmarket to an immense amount of noise.

Claire hurried down the tunnel, toward the chatter and yelling. It sounded like it was coming from Blinky's alcove and she dashed for it, drawing out her staff. It had no magic to it other than what let it grow and shrink, but getting walloped with a wooden stick wasn't something any creature was fond of. When she reached the alcove, she looked inside and nearly dropped it.

A horde of furry creatures was humming a song, each of them using their tufted tails to sweep the ground. Others were climbing the walls and using their furry bodies to polish the light crystals. And others were leaping into a gap in the ceiling, running off to who knew where. Blinky was in the corner, as if afraid to move, and Jim and Carina stayed out of the way by sitting on one of his work benches. "Uh…what am I looking at here?"

"Hi Claire. You're back early." Jim had his knees to his chest, watching the brownies with a weary, bewildered expression.

"Yeah, I had some time. I figured we could work on that Spanish assignment you were…having trouble with." Claire noticed the changeling girl perk up with interest. "Hi Carina, how are you?"

"I'm well Claire, thank you." The girl's voice was cordially cool. "You have trouble with Spanish Jim?" she continued, voice instantly warmer as she looked to him. Jim shrugged a shoulder. Claire brushed this oddity off and tried to step into the room.

"Don't come in. If you try to step on the ground," Jim started, lowering one shoe toward the spotless floor. Three of the creatures broke rank and chattered irritably at him until he returned to his curled position on the bench. "I think we have to wait until they're finished."

"What are they?" Claire watched as five ran past her, into the tunnels. "Should I stop them?"

"I don't know the answer to that yet. Blinky?" Jim glanced toward the troll, who shrugged helplessly.

"As I was _saying_ , brownies are known for helping host families with chores and keeping tidy. They're very friendly and love helping those they regard as friends. That being said, there's usually only one or two brownies to a house. And they do have a mischievous side. They adore pranks according to lore, and I believe they were the ones that gave me the mustache." He sidled along the wall. "Where on earth could they have come from?"

Carina huddled against Jim. "Do you think they'll bite me if I try to get down? I need to check on Milagro."

Jim carefully lowered his feet, avoiding any of the brownies and frowning as they protested. "Look, it's very nice of you to help sweep. But you need to let people walk. Carina needs to check on her little brother." He crouched and spoke firmly. "Why don't we see if we can find a translator and try to talk, hm?"

The brownies nodded, chattering amongst themselves. Carina climbed down with relief. "Thanks Jim." The girl glanced at Claire. Not for the first time Claire had to wonder what she'd done to make the girl's smile turned to a muted glower. Carina slipped by, running into the tunnel to freedom.

"I don't suppose we know anyone fluent in Brownie?" Claire asked, moving delicately around the tiny creatures. They parted for her, more interested by the new guest than worried about the floor. "They couldn't have just appeared out of nowhere."

Blinky opened his arms. "Please follow me in an orderly fashion!" He nodded at Jim and Claire. "Aaarrrgghh has proven excellent at deciphering Chompsky's speech. Tobias has as well, but as I understand he's not in the market right now. If anyone can help us, it will be he."

They found Aaarrrgghh carving the wall of the Hero's Forge, widening it and opening it up to veins of crystal that glowed. He hummed as he worked, and the crowd of brownies shrieked with delight, rampaging into the room and immediately digging at the wall with their little paws. Several began biting and nipping at the crystal vein, taking bites out of it and swallowing. Aaarrrgghh stopped carving, looking down with bemusement. "…Brownies?"

"Yes! Have you ever encountered them?" Blinky watched them with uneasy admiration. "Goodness, look at them go!"

"Aaarrrrgghh has seen a few brownies, but long, long ago. Before Gunmar was locked away. They did not like Gumm-Gumms." Aaarrrgghh stood peaceably as the creatures climbed up his arms, exploring his hulking frame. "Where they come from?"

"That's what we want to know. Think you can figure out what they're saying?" Jim asked. Aaarrrgghh tilted his head thoughtfully, lowering himself so his chin just brushed the ground. He spoke lowly and one of the brownies jabbered swiftly, paws waving and tail lashing. Aaarrrgghh nodded and listened fro some time. Claire tried to pick up even a little of the conversation to no avail.

"Hm. Say they were put in box long, long ago. By powerful witch with a false hand." Ice crept up Claire's back – no prizes for guessing who that was. "Very few left when she put them in, but saved their kind by keeping them safe from predators." Aaarrrgghh lifted his head. "Someone open box, brownies were freed. Now they look for new place to work, safe home."

"Morganna locked the whole race in a single box!?" Jim slipped one hand into his pocket, feeling for the amulet. It was a nervous habit he'd developed. "And he says she saved them? Maybe even she could feel sorry for the little guys." Claire tried to imagine Morganna feeling sorry for someone and wondered if, at some point, Morganna might have been even a little nice. She recoiled from the thought; it clashed too much with the sorceress that had seeped into her mind and controlled her like a puppet.

Jim's eyes widened. "But if they were in one of Morganna's boxes, someone must have been in the locked room. That's where Merlin has been storing everything." He shot Blinky a worried look. "I'll check it now. Maybe it was gnome or something, but I need to know if the lock's intact."

He took off and Claire lifted her fingers absently to her chin. The market was already feeling cramped with their current population, though they were constantly working to expand the tunnels and homes. "Are we going to be able to house them? Obviously they'll need a safe place to stay." She held her face in one hand, frazzled as the brownies inspected her shoes and the wall, spreading like spilled coffee. "We'll have to build more homes, and fast. Maybe the gnomes can live with them for a bit."

"I'm rather more worried about how our fellow trolls will react to more unexpected guests. Especially when everyone is already on edge, and they're known for practical jokes." Blinky winced as Aaarrrgghh inspected his arm. It was covered in goo, sealing it and keeping it clean. "How is the stonescale?"

"Not bad. Applying like Barbara say." Aaarrrgghh's brow creased. "Think brownies can catch?"

"No, if gnomes are immune I think the brownies won't have a problem. They're mainly furred anyway." Blinky glanced up as Jim returned, holding a charred chunk of wood. "Was that what housed them?"

"I think so. And I think I found out who opened it." He prodded the pocket of his jacket and Gnome Chompsky poked his head out, mumbling apologetically. Jim patted the gnome's head, Chompsky perking up a little at the forgiving motion. "He was in the locked room. I can't believe there were so many brownies in this box. How did Morganna do it?"

"It was probably a doorway more than a containment. Like the cradlestone – a pocket of reality sealed off from the one we're in now. Opening the box would have expelled them." Several of the creatures sniffed at the box, prodding and poking. "The magic virtue is gone from it," Blinky continued. The brownies looked up at him, muttering excitedly. "Well Trollhunter? How shall we proceed? This is a rare species; shall I dig up what I can about them?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'll text Tobes, let him know about the brownies. Claire, want to help me make some places for them to sleep tonight?" Jim handed Chompsky to Aaarrrgghh, who held the gnome gently. "We can do the lines again after."

"What about your assignments?" He hesitated and Claire put a hand on her hip. "If you want to stay on the timeline you need to have them ready by tomorrow."

"Yeah, I forgot. I was working through the Odyssey and then all this happened." He gestured to the brownies. "Just aren't enough hours in the day I guess. I'll pull a late night."

Claire exchanged a significant look with Blinky. His five eyes were hooded, skeptical. New Trollmarket was full of distractions for a dedicated Trollhunter. "We've got spare blankets. I'm sure we can house them down here in the Hero's Forge until we can get more housing dug out. What do brownies even eat?" She stepped aside as a small group tried to untie her laces, fascinated by the looped knots.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Blinky said. "I'll start the research posthaste."

"Aaarrrgghh will remind others to take baths. And text Wingman about brownies. Barbara here yet?" Aaarrrgghh settled Chompsky on his head so the gnome could ride between his horns.

"Anytime now." Jim scanned the room and sighed. "Well, let's get started."

* * *

"I have to say, they're darling." Barbara scratched beneath the chin of the nearest brownie. It cooed and let her continue her examination. The infirmary was cozy and well-lit, but it was made slightly worrisome by the occupants.

Each bed was taken up by an itchy, irritable troll. Using the soap Barbara had brought, the trolls scrubbed at their skin and rinsed with clean water drawn from the same place as the hot springs, relieving the terrible itching and reducing the stonescale's presence enough to be tolerable. Barbara turned from the brownie to help the nearest troll reach his back. Jim fetched her another bar of soap from the cardboard box she'd brought so she could spread the suds evenly before rinsing the troll off.

Blinky was tucked into the corner with a heavy tome, eyes flicking to the side each time he finished a line. "My my. No wonder brownies are spoken of so little. It says here that while they're immune to sunlight, they are common prey to goblins. Viewed as delicacies by goblins, brownies were all but driven to extinction as Gumm-Gumm numbers soared and goblins proliferated. It was shortly before the battle of Killahead Bridge that the brownies were sealed away. These may well be the only brownies in all the world." He peeped over the book, watching as they formed a ladder to climb up to the nearest light crystal, q-tips in hand, and began to polish it. Others used their tails to brush dust away, humming cheerful ditties. "What helpful little creatures. Is it possible Morganna took pity on them after all?"

Claire leaned over his shoulder. "Maybe…but look." She pointed to a new paragraph. "'Although brownies are generally benevolent, they have a nasty streak. Their sense of humor is barbed and if they perceive threats to their home or hosts, they can become fierce and utilize small magic and make thorough nuisances of themselves.'"

"Sounds like Morganna could have felt bad for the brownies, _or_ just thought they were really annoying," Jim said. Barbara barely bit back, "Sort of like Merlin." Jim broke off another lump of soap. "If they caused trouble for Gunmar by protecting their homes, she probably wanted them out of the way until the Gumm-Gumms won the war."

Barbara watched the creatures clean, inspecting them for any angry, sour movements. "Does it mention in there how to make friends with them? What they eat?"

Blinky flipped ahead, frown increasing. "They respond well to presents but dislike extravagance, and it must be meant as a gift, not a payment. They help out because they love it, and they want people to share with them out of affection and gratitude. And it looks like they eat…crystal." He lifted his head anxiously. "Only crystal. Do you think they'll go after the heartstone if times turn lean?"

Barbara did some quick mental math – say one brownie ate an ounce of crystal a day, rough estimate, and there looked to be about five hundred…around thirty-two pounds of some kind of gemstone or quartz. She glanced at the light crystals. They grew fast, but not that fast. "How are we going to keep them fed?"

"We have some quartz saved up, it's edible to trolls. But all these brownies…that's way more than we have for a long period of time. We might have enough for a week." Jim looked to his mother, eyes anxious. "Salt crystal might work, but how can we make enough for them?"

"Well, we know one place that has a lot of broken crystal. Heartstone Trollmarket." Toby trotted into the room, looking around with bright interest. "Wow, they really are gnome-sized! Aw, they're fuzzy." He waved at the nearest ones and watched as they chattered and bounded over, one or two climbing onto his arm. Barbara fought a smile – Toby had an extra spring in his step. New Jersey suited him and Aaarrrgghh very well, as did being able to see Darci on the weekends. They traded off, him visiting one week and she visiting the next, and Barbara was glad to see they were dedicated to making a real effort.

Jim smacked himself in the forehead. "Tobes, you're a genius. Even if the magic was drained, the heartstone crystal that's left should work."

"I have my moments." Toby offered Aaarrrgghh a fist bump. "Darci says hey big guy. She's looking forward to seeing you tomorrow." Aaarrrgghh smiled, nuzzling Toby's hair. "What do you think of calling up the Creepslayerz for some help?"

Jim nodded. "Let me call my dad, see what he says." Barbara watched him fiddle with his phone a little before calling. There was still a little awkwardness between her son and ex-husband, that much she knew. That wasn't something that left for a long, long time. But she would have been lying if she said she wasn't happy to see that Jim looked a little relieved when James picked up. "Hi Dad. I'm putting you on speaker, is that okay?"

"Sure thing kiddo." The man's voice was sunny, energetic. "Keeping busy?"

"Extremely." Jim smiled and a few brownies climbed up his pant leg to examine the phone. "How is Arcadia? Draig and Mordred doing all right?"

"Arcadia is beautiful right now, spring's creeping in. And Draig and Mordred are doing really well. You wouldn't recognize Mordred, he spends so much time outside." The easy manner was so soothing. Barbara shook her head slightly – whatever one could say about King Arthur, aka James Lake Sr, he was a smooth operator. He put people at ease. "What's going on? You sound peaked."

Jim paced a little, scratching his head sheepishly. "Have you ever heard of creatures called 'brownies'? Because we suddenly got about five hundred of them." James was silent as Jim explained the situation, letting him talk. Barbara turned her attention to several more trolls coming in, the former patients relieved and removing themselves from the room with soap and itch-relief gel in tow. Several of them offered her real, quiet thanks, and she caught Blinky drawing himself up in pride at their reactions. His paternal nature was strongest with Jim, but he was a team Dad if Barbara had ever seen one.

"So you need a bunch of crystal to feed the little guys, huh? I think we can help with that. The Nuñezes have more litter to send too." Barbara started – she could have sworn she heard a goat bleating from the phone. Jim blinked. "Sorry, Nibbles lives up to his name. No Nibbles, leave my jeans alone. Go find your mama. Anyway, we can pull some supplies together. Why don't you come back with Darci on Sunday night? You and Claire can help get the crystal loaded up…and maybe we can do something for your birthday."

Barbara smiled slightly. Sneaky. Jim frowned. "Dad, maybe in a couple months we can do something as far as birthdays. But things are pretty hectic right now. I just…"

"Right, totally. Understood." Barbara caught the wistfulness. She sighed – Jim took his responsibilities seriously. Which was a very good thing until it wasn't. "No worries, there'll be another time. I'll get Draig to start digging up crystals, and Mordred and I will get the litter together."

"Thanks Dad. It means a lot." There was relief in Jim's voice, as if he'd been holding his breath and could finally release it. "We'll come by tomorrow evening. See you then."

"Looking forward to it," James said warmly. Jim hung up and took out the amulet, rolling it between his fingers.

"Now we can house the brownies for a time at least." Blinky was staring thoughtfully at Jim. "Master Jim, now that James mentions it, you do seem a little tired. Have you been getting enough sleep?" They all knew the answer to that, but Blinky swept his eyes over Jim. "You know you only need to ask if you need assistance."

"No, I'm fine. Everyone's doing great at working together. It's just a busy time, y'know?" Jim gently tugged one brownie off his arm, as it was trying to figure out how to get rid of a loose thread. "I might have been a little ambitious about the school curriculum. That's all."

That was not all, but Barbara knew that getting her son to admit he needed a little time out of New Trollmarket was about as easy as performing an appendectomy on a football player on steroids and hallucinogens at the same time. True story. She met Blinky's five eyes and the troll nodded slightly. "We're almost out of ginger root. I need to make more soap soon, but the shop is so far out of the way of the hospital it's hard for me to get to, and it makes it so much more potent." She turned to Claire. "It's not too far from the college though – think you can pick some up after your rehearsal today?"

Claire took the hint and nodded. "Of course. It'll probably be late before I get back though. And I'd hate to have Alberto have to walk with me to pick up the herbs and roots."

Blinky made a sound of disapproval. "A young lady in the city alone at night? That sounds worrisome. If only there were someone who would accompany her."

Jim's expression was completely flat. "You guys are the opposite of subtle."

Toby shook his head. "Nah, dude, that was pretty subtle. _Here's_ the opposite of subtle." He grabbed Jim's shoulders and shook him gently. "Go with Claire! Breathe the spring air and get some sun before you turn into a zombie! Get out before we drag you out!" Jim wriggled free, Claire laughing as Toby followed him. "Out! I cast you out clean spirit! Go visit the sun kissed lands from whence you came!"

Jim chewed his lip, gazing at Claire. "I don't want you out late alone in the city. But we have a whole new species in New Trollmarket. Even if they are small and adorable." Several brownies giggled at the description. "I should be here in case something happens, shouldn't I?"

"You should get out for a bit Master Jim. You haven't left New Trollmarket in nearly two weeks." Blinky folded his arms. "As elder of Trollmarket, I insist you leave for a time. Aaarrrgghh, myself, and Tobias will handle things until you return with Claire and the ingredients." And more vitamin D, Barbara thought.

Claire took Jim's arm. "C'mon, we can get more ingredients if we have two people carrying them, and if we help the trolls feel better they'll be much more receptive to the brownies. I'll help you with your Spanish this evening, I'll just stay in Trollmarket tonight." She put her head on his shoulder. "Unless you don't mind me walking in the street in the dark of night alone."

Jim wrapped his free arm around her. "Oh, yeah, I can say 'no' to that. I guess it couldn't hurt…and I'd like to see how the play is going." Claire hesitated and he frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we're just looking to replace a role that's all. We'll make it work," Claire said firmly. Barbara noticed a few brownies climbing into one of the medical bags and extracted them with careful hands. They sure were wiggly little things, climbing into pockets and onto everything.

"Okay, okay. I know when I'm beat. It might be a good idea to pick up some more books for the changeling kids too, they're burning through what they've got." Claire led Jim from the infirmary and everyone watched them go.

Barbara finally let out a breath. "So birthday plans. Are we thinking a party? Because Jim does not like birthday parties. And unless the stonescale clears up faster than anticipated, it's probably not the best idea."

"I think we should all pitch in for a present. Think you can find the parts for a new Vespa, Blinky? I still feel guilty when I put on my armor." Toby stepped away from the door as a miserable goblin stepped through, back covered in the the itchy rash.

The effect was immediate – the brownies screamed and pelted for the corner and the goblin yammered in alarm, and for a moment the sound and blur of hundreds of small creatures was a mess. Barbara found a dozen jumping into her arms and yelped, the few trolls still in the room roaring in response to the clamor. "Everyone _stop_!" Aaarrrgghh barked, voice booming.

The brownies had the goblin surrounding, petrified and furious, ears and noses quivering. The goblin showed them his teeth and Toby moved to pick him up. "Whoa, whoa! Hang on guys, this is a good goblin? He's not gonna eat you. Right Kwagga?" The goblin glanced at him and jabbered. "He's been a part of Trollmarket for a long time. He's nice!"

Barbara had only seen a few goblins in Trollmarket – they operated in a hive mind and tended toward Gumm-Gumm service because of it – and none of them had ever been anything but quiet and peaceable. "Sorry Kwagga, our guests were surprised." The brownies slowly approached on their little paws, sniffing at the place where Kwagga had been. Barbara set him gently in what was serving as the wash basin for smaller creatures, a plastic kiddie pool. "Ready for a wash?"

The goblin grumbled but allowed her to use the soap to scrub him. His brows lifted and he settled on the floor of the pool as she washed off the itchiest places, resting like a lazy cat. "There, that's better, huh? See guys, the goblins here are nice!" Kwagga perked up and from somewhere on his person – Barbara was certain goblins had pouches somewhere but she could for the life of her get one to tell her – drew a dog biscuit and put it on the table as if he'd given her a gourmet cupcake. "And generous too." Barbara slipped it into her pocket. It joined a rubber bouncy ball, a set of jacks, two dice, and something she had decided was a Roman penny.

Were they terribly grand gifts? No. But they were given with gratitude, and that was what mattered.

Blinky drummed his fingers uneasily against the nearest table. "We need to gather the trolls and inform them of our guests. They might not recognize such a species. It's still a chore to get them to tolerate gnomes some days!"

Toby patted Aaarrrgghh's arm. "Well, let's call a meeting to update the others. We can handle that without Jimbo or Claire. I mean, it's not like people are going to lose their heads over these cute little fellas, right-?"

A high-pitched scream echoed from the tunnel. "Vermin! Vermin in the market!" The sound of a rush of a hundred little feet and chitters of fury sent Toby flying into the tunnel, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh hot on his tracks. Barbara remained behind with Kwagga and the rest of the brownies, arms still covered in suds.

She glanced down at the goblin. "This is going to be a mess, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Waka chaka."

* * *

Jim balanced the crate against his side, phone braced against his shoulder. "Merlin, please repeat that. Because it sounds like you said you stole a snowy owl from a zoo."

"I didn't steal it. I left currency in the pen." Jim stared at the wall, Claire holding a bag of books as she patted his shoulder sympathetically. They'd procured two boxes of fresh ginger root – the shop owner had given them a funny look but made no complaint – and ten new books for the kids. The sun had felt good on his skin, the last chill breezes of February faltering as March swept in. Jim felt for Claire's hand absently as he listened, twining his fingers with hers.

"You can't take something and leave money for it, trade has to be willful to be legal."

"No one was using it! He was just sitting there, bored as can be, with a bunch of dirty-fingered children poking at the enclosure window! Owls make excellent familiars, and as much as trolls like eating cats it seemed a better option." Jim's irritation softened – it sounded like Merlin might actually have pitied the animal. The past few months had seen a subtle shift in him. He was still a cantankerous, generally selfish old man, but there were glimmers of something warmer when they least expected it. Jim had heard him struggling with the cell phone they'd gotten him, but he knew for a fact the wizard texted Mordred every day.

"Did anyone tell you that they wanted to engage in trade?" The sour muttering was answer enough. Jim wondered if this was what it felt like to raise a willful child just a tad too smart for its own good. "Then you shouldn't have taken the owl. How did you even get it out of the cage without anyone noticing?"

"I swapped it magically with a plush toy from the gift shop. They moved about as much stuck in there! He's quite excited to be traveling with me, he just brought back a mouse. I'm going to name him Cato. Unless you're going to tell me I have to take him back?"

Jim stopped on the sidewalk, leaning against the building. The university had a sprawling, beautiful campus and the brick buildings were solid and dark, and as the sun set it was nearly empty on a Saturday evening. It was so massive compared to a high school. Jim felt small in the shadows of it. "Well you can't take him back now, you'll be arrested. Snowy owls are protected by law. Just…no more taking things without asking. Even if you leave money. Where's he going to stay? We can't box him up underground!"

"Of course not, he'll live in the woods above the market. I'm training him to come when I call." Merlin sounded matter of fact. Jim shook his head at Claire, who couldn't stifle a smile. "But I'll ask from now on. If it's so important."

"Okay. Thank you. Are you staying safe?"

"Quite. It's actually refreshing to be out on my own a little. Has anything happened at the market I should know about?" Merlin grunted. "Cato does not like my eyebrows."

Jim privately wondered if the owl might think they looked like caterpillars. "Well, actually, yes. We've got some new inhabitants that just arrived, and I was wondering if you'd heard of them. They're called –"

"Oh dear. I'll have to call you back. I think someone phoned the police. Talk to you shortly, Trollhunter." Before he could protest Merlin hung up, leaving Jim and Claire standing on the school sidewalk.

Claire chewed her lip. "He'll be fine, right?" Jim slipped his phone back into his pocket, stomach churning. "He knows to keep his magic hidden. And he can take care of himself." She led the way to the theatre building. "We've unleashed Merlin on the world without adult supervision. I don't know that the world is ready for this."

Jim followed her, stepping ahead to get the door for her. It creaked slightly, as if the closer hadn't been replaced in a long while. "What was the alternative? One of us going with him to watch his every move? I'm a little impressed a case of arguable animal rescue is the only thing we've heard about."

"Fair enough." The theatre was quiet for now, save for the sound of conversation from the stage. Jim looked around, fascinated by the size of the room. The seats went back for dozens of rows, and the whole place smelled like velvet. The rafters were metal and high, high above. Claire found a spot to set her box. "Okay, we're going to start in a few minutes. Nobody will mind you being here. Hopefully Kim is ready and we'll start rehearsal quickly." Jim set his box and bag beside hers, drawing up short. Claire's purse had moved. She saw in and carefully opened the top. "What the-? How did you get in here? Have you been there the past couple hours!?"

Three brownies poked their heads out and murmured, looking around excitedly. "No, no. Back in the purse." Claire nudged them back into the bag, glancing at the stage nervously. "Fudge knuckle. What do we do?"

Jim's heart pounded and he held the amulet in his pocket, soothing energies oozing out of it. "I'll keep an eye on the purse. You worry about the rehearsal, I'll worry about…"

He paused and slowly lifted his head. The faintest skitter up above made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Claire. I'm…gonna check on something." Claire followed his gaze and nodded, holding the purse to her chest. Jim paced away from her, to the back of the theatre, into the deepest shadow where he could hide in the seats. "To burn bright in darkness, Moonlight is mine to command," he whispered. As if sensing his discretion, the amulet chimed softly and in a single uncomfortable moment he was in troll form, head aching where his horns had sprouted. He sniffed and his suspicions were confirmed.

Goblins. _Unfriendly_ goblins. He had been in the city of Hoboken before to deal with goblin threats, but always small numbers. Fear and stress drew them like trash drew flies, and dispatching them kept the humans and Trollmarket safe. But this smelled heavier, thicker. There were several goblins in the theatre. Not enough for a gang – if there were the humans would already have been consumed – but at least four were creeping in the rafters above.

Claire crept up beside him, purse on her knees as she knelt. "We need to get people out of here. There are goblins nesting above us," Jim whispered. "Think you could convince everyone to step outside for ten minutes?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Claire put a hand atop his head and pushed it down slightly. "Sorry, you're so freaking tall this way. Switch back for now, I'll figure out a way to-"

One of the brownies sat up ramrod straight and screeched; it had caught the scent of a goblin. Jim reached for it hastily, trying to soothe it, but the creature leaped from the purse and sprinted for the door of the building, the other two springing after it. Claire managed to snag the tail of one and stuffed it back into her purse. "No!" Jim hissed. "What's wrong with them?"

"Goblins are their natural predators, remember?" She jumped over the back of the theatre seat, bolting for the door. "Switch back, hurry!"

Jim nearly obeyed, but the odor of absolute terror made his nose twitch. It was a sudden cold sweat, followed by a shriek. "A rat! Oh my gosh, rat!" One of the theatre students had spotted a brownie across the room, and she jumped into the nearest chair. Several more exclaimed, climbing down from the stage.

Bad, bad, very bad. Jim looked from one side of the room to the other – Claire had just grabbed one of the brownies and pushed it safely into her purse, but the other one, where was it?

"Waka…"

Jim jerked his head up, spotting one of the goblins at last. It looked gray in the shadow, but its red eyes were burning, hungry dots in the rafters. The soft croon was nearly lost over the chatter but he followed its gaze to the corner, where the last brownie had run to try to pry open a vent. Did anyone see it there?

"So sorry, I was supposed to watch the pet rats for a kid I'm babysitting! There was a problem with their cage!" Claire's lie was shaky but it distracted them – the students all looked toward the front of the building, alarm lessened, and Jim saw the goblin gather itself for a leap down into the corner. The brownie didn't see it –

Jim bolted for the corner as the goblin pounced. Its mouth was open, sharp teeth bared, and the brownie spotted it just as the bony limbs reached out to grab its tiny throat. Jim grabbed the furry creature just in time, scooping it to his chest as he hit the wall and baring his teeth silently at the blood goblin. The creature squeaked in terror and flung itself back up the wall, climbing the sheer surface with insect speed. Jim glared up the wall after the goblin, feeling the brownie quiver in his arms. The poor thing was terrified.

"Dude." The awed word made him freeze and Jim slowly turned his head, keeping the brownie hidden as best he could. The theatre students stood in the center aisle, a few feet from Claire, who stared in petrified silence.

Jim had saved the brownie, but no fewer than eight college students were looking straight at him. And in the rush to protect the creature, he hadn't swapped back to his human form. The woman who had spoken had frizzy brown hair and big eyes behind her glasses, clutching a tablet in her hands. Jim tried to speak and found his mouth too dry.

The woman's stunned face broke into a wide grin. "That…is the freaking coolest costume ever!"

End of Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Greetings all; I hope you'll forgive a later update. It's been a busy few weekends, and since that's when I get the majority of my writing done, it's been a little difficult. But a new chapter is here. I hope you enjoy it on this Wednesday evening.

* * *

Chapter 3

Piling On

* * *

"I'm loving the Tiefling influence here. I don't get the string on the horns, but the LEDs are superb." The young woman had not ceased circling him. Jim stared at Claire, hardly daring to breathe. What if she got too close and noticed his skin was true stone? Claire met his gaze and he shifted slightly, wishing he could be anywhere else. "I guess if there's a complaint it's that you're nowhere near ugly enough to be a 'beast.' Even with the teeth, you're still not very vicious-looking. But attractive monsters _are_ in right now. I even don't mind the glowy claws, gives a kind of 'magical' feel, you know?"

Jim might have been flattered if he wasn't freaking out. What was she talking about? "Uh. Thanks."

Claire coughed. "Kim, I –"

The woman, Kim, turned in a whirl of brown curls. "You're an angel! I swear, I was at the end of my rope. There are no people around that are willing to play the beast for this, none!" Jim focused on her, startled. They had no beast? Claire had said there was a role that needed filling, but the beast? One half of the title characters was kind of a big deal.

Everything clicked. The woman thought he was trying out to fill the role and had worn a costume to the theatre. He groaned inwardly, remembering the terror of the Romeo and Juliet audition. Someone up there loved to see him squirm. Jim exhaled deeply, trying to keep his voice steady. "Claire, think you could help me with one of the horns? It feels kind of loose."

Claire nodded. "Of course. Guys, I'll be right back. Give us a sec?" The cast stepped back so they could sidle around the chairs and into the hallway, Claire leading him to a broom closet. They slipped inside and she shut the door before her eyes grew round and she gasped. "That was so close. Too close! Is the brownie okay!?"

Jim felt the lithe creature slither out of the chest plate, popping its head up under his chin. Claire scooped it up and it dove gratefully into her purse with the other two. "You three are in trouble once we figure this out!" Claire ran her hands through her hair, trembling with nerves. "Blood goblins in the rafters. Of course there are. What are we going to do about them?"

"If we can hang around until after rehearsal, I can get rid of them. They won't attack if they know they're outnumbered and that a bigger troll is guarding the area. Heck, they might am-scray by the time the students leave." Jim scratched his head, glad for once of the way his troll form made it easy to ignore his human emotions. He needed to keep his head if it was Claire's turn to spaz. "There's no beast for the play? Since when?"

"I just found out a few hours ago, Kim's going to read the beast's part for practice." Claire lowered her eyes to her hands, fingers tangling together uneasily. "Jeff's got mono and the understudy broke his leg. She's looking for people that might be willing to play the role…oh, I'm so stupid! If you don't at least try out they'll be crushed!" She lifted her chin, calculating. "But if you do try out, and you do really badly, they won't insist you play the beast…"

"Wait, time out. What happens if you can't find anyone else?" She hesitated and Jim crossed his arms loosely. "Claire?"

"She's still looking. But if we can't find someone…well, you can't have Beauty and the Beast without the beast anymore than guacamole without avocado. We might have to cancel." She poked his chest with a finger. "But you are way too busy to worry about this. Which is why I didn't even mention it."

Jim leaned against the wall, glancing over the shelves. A mop was propped up beside one set and cleaning supplies filled the room. It was cramped, and he was close enough to see the worry on her face. Claire had been so patient for a role, waiting and working. And now the play might not go on? Jim lowered his head so he could meet her eye. "Are you sure you don't want me to actually try out? This play is important to you."

She shook her head sternly. "Maybe, but _you're_ more important to me than a play. We'll figure something out." Jim's entire core warmed at her firm statement. "Come on, let's go. Channel your inner Tommy Wiseau."

"Who?"

"Er…okay, go for Keanu Reeves on melatonin supplements." She poked her zipped purse. "And you guys stay in there! You're safe with people around, the goblins won't attack now that they know the Trollhunter's here."

Jim followed her out of the closet, breathing deeply. Be a bad actor. He could do that. He didn't really think he was much better than passable anyway, especially compared to Claire. The students were back up by the theatre, Kim typing furiously on her tablet. She looked up as they approached, eyes bright. "So, you want to check out the stage? We'll try a scene, I've got a copy of the script. No judgment here, we're all learning."

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a copy. Jim accepted it and turned it to the beast's first scene with Belle, acting as though he had to look for it. "Okay. So…want to try the meeting scene?"

"Sounds perfect." Kim jumped up and ran to the center of the stage. "Belle will enter here, calling for her father. You'll be over here – pretend there's a wall you're hiding behind along the tape here, you'll be watching her – and she'll act like she heard you." She fixed her eyes on the pair. "Belle is frightened, scared for her father, lost in a strange, forbidding place all alone. The beast is angry at the intrusion, cold by nature, but also just a bit curious." She raised a hand as if she'd seen a vision. "He sees this beautiful creature, and she just doesn't _belong_ there in the dark. He tries to get her to leave but she won't! She's too loyal, too bold. He respects her for it, even though she's terrified when she sees him." She put her hands together. "Okay, let's try this. Whenever you're ready." Scampering from the stage, Kim ducked behind the curtain and watched intently.

Jim glanced at Claire and made his way to the place Kim had indicated. His heart pounded in his throat. Be a bad actor on purpose. As if he would be good enough to be in a production with Claire and college actors anyway, right? And there was no way he could handle a play on top of the stonescale, and looking after the market, and his schoolwork –

Claire "entered" and in that moment they weren't on a stage, they were in a dark, stale castle that smelled of damp. She wasn't Claire, she was Belle, and her brown eyes gleamed with fear. She turned in place, checking to make sure nothing was creeping up on her, and Jim stared at her.

This was her element. Her passion. He couldn't let her lose this. No matter what.

He shifted slightly to make the "noise" that Belle would hear. Her head swiveled, startled. "Who's there? I hear you!" Her voice trembled but she spoke clearly, loud. She projected well.

Be a beast. A creature locked in the dark by a magical being. It shouldn't be too hard. Jim lifted his head. "The master of this castle. The one you trespass in." Was that him? He sounded cold, angry. The way an animal locked in a cage would sound at the first sign of a stranger. Claire blinked, temporarily out of character, but she delved back into the role.

"I…I beg your pardon. I'm seeking my father, an old merchant man. Have you given hospitality to such a person? He hasn't come home and he was due yesterday, but his horse arrived!" She dared to take a step forward. Jim turned his face toward her, pretending to be obscured by a wall.

"He rots in my dungeon. He too trespassed in my home, and I suffer no disturbance in my solitude. You at least had reason." He glanced at the script – it called for the beast to move around the "wall" to be behind Belle, prowling. Might as well go all out. He moved to the other side, eyes narrowing. "Begone and do not return, or you won't find me so lenient."

"No! My father – he would never have come here unless he had to! The weather must have forced him to seek shelter and your home was the only place. Please, show mercy on him!" She hit her knees, weak with terror, with loss. "We would never return, never disturb you again! He couldn't have known!"

"He has had the misfortune of seeing my face. I cannot let him leave and speak of me, or hunters will come daily to my door. Leave before you too see it and must join him. I will not put myself or my subjects at risk!"

"Oh, but he wouldn't! He's old, tired, no one would believe him! They would think he'd taken ill in the forest! I…"

She hesitated and Jim waited. Her eyes shone with fire. "I'll stay. I'll take his place. If – if he goes back into town without me, speaking of a…person…they'll assume I was killed by bandits. They'll think he was overcome with grief." She pressed one hand to her chest. "Please. Take me as your prisoner."

Jim scoffed. But he mulled it over, still prowling. "You would stay as long as you live? Swear on your life girl. Is an old man that surely has ten years, if that, worth trading your own young life for?"

"He's my father. I won't let anything happen to him!" she snapped. He drew up short. "I'm not afraid! Come out in the light and we'll strike the bargain, unless you're too frightened to face me."

Jim slowly stepped toward her and she fell back, eyes wide and horrified. It was completely believable, pupils widening like an animal ready to flee. This beautiful creature had seen him – what would she say? At last she closed her mouth and stepped toward him, staring straight into his eyes. She held her shaking hands to her chest. "I swear on my life. I will remain here if you let him go."

He nodded, their faces inches apart. "Very well. We have a deal. I will send him home, and you…you will stay in the eastern wing of the castle. I'll have a room prepared." He turned away from her and crossed the stage.

"A room? Isn't my father…in the dungeon?" He stopped and turned to look at her.

"Would you prefer such quarters?" She shook her head. "Then follow me. If you've a more sensible question I might answer that."

"…I do have one question. If I'm to stay here…what should I call the master of the castle?" She looked small under the lights, frail, and he laughed sharply.

"Call me the beast. What am I to call you?"

She drew herself up. "Belle. My name is Belle."

He gazed at her for a moment. This beautiful flower blooming in the darkest of places was brilliant as the sun. "It suits you."

That was the end of the scene – the beast and Belle spoke again later, after a change of scenery. Jim stood awkwardly, Claire clearing her throat and waving hand in front of her face. She'd actually managed to produce slight tears. Talk about an actress.

"You two are _electric_ together!" He'd nearly forgotten Kim staring at them. "You move in that costume like well-oiled machinery! And the tone shifts were just perfect!" Kim was enthused, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad you found him Claire! The chemistry between you two is amazing, have you acted together before?"

Claire blushed, brushing her hair back. "Um, well, yeah. In our high school production of Romeo and Juliet. We were the lead roles."

One of the women in the seats nodded. The other students were watching from the first row. "Looks really good from here too. Just…hon, can you make your face a little meaner?" She pointed to Jim. "When you were trying to scare her at first, your voice was great. But you've got a really sweet face, so you'll need to push the emotion to make it believable. Those pretty baby blues aren't good for looking nasty."

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll try."

Kim nodded thoughtfully. "Excellent point Natalie. Maybe some makeup to darken his features, increase the contrast…hm. Well, I was thinking we would rehearse tonight, but with a new beast that probably needs to read through the lines a couple times, why don't we try for Monday night? I know we've all got some projects due by Monday morning." Several of the actors muttered and Jim bit his lip. His Spanish assignment loomed like a gargoyle overhead. Oh, he was going to regret this.

He glanced at Claire. She looked exasperated but a euphoric flush filled her face. Maybe he wouldn't regret it after all.

"Come ready to go through the whole play." She turned to Jim and Claire again, gratitude radiating out of her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even catch your name. You two are really saving the day."

"Oh. No, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Jim." Her brows rose.

"Ohhh… _that_ Jim." She beamed at Claire. "He's a keeper."

Claire sighed. "Yes. He definitely is. We'll show up without makeup Monday night."

"Good idea. How quick can you change out of that stuff? There's only about ten seconds where we obscure you from the audience," Kim said suddenly, concern marking her face.

"That should be enough time. It's really flexible and movable. Uh…trade secret by the guy I commissioned it from. If he told me, he'd have to kill me." Jim forced a laugh. "But it absolutely can't get into sunlight. It'll be damaged beyond repair." Kim made a note in her tablet.

"Of course, we'll do everything we can to keep it in good condition. I'll bring sandwiches on Monday, we'll be here a while. Any dietary preferences, food allergies? Gluten okay?" He was struck by the thoughtfulness of the questions and by the directness of her movements. Kim seemed a little awkward, but when it came to the theatre, it was obvious that nothing would escape her in her laser-like focus. He couldn't help but glance at Claire – a kindred spirit.

When the students began to leave, he balked by requesting the bathroom. Upon reaching the hall, Jim doubled back to slip up the stairs and hide in the mezzanines. As the students wrapped up, Claire among them, Jim took the time to hunt for the scent of goblins. He sniffed and paced across the balcony, staring up at the rafters.

The goblins had done the smart thing and fled. The scent was old and there was no movement. Jim stared into the rafters and knew that there was no tracking them in a populated city, even late at night. Too much exhaust in the air, pollution, people, rodents.

He took care to run his hand along the railing, even rubbing his head against the nearest wall. If the goblins returned, it would be to a place with the scent of a troll, one they had seen and knew was no friend to them. When he heard the door creak and knew the other students had gone, he switched back to his human form and descended the stairs. Claire waited, holding the purse like a baby. They stopped by the seats they'd left the crates of ginger in. "So," Jim began, "I guess we're in a play together. Again."

Claire sighed. "Jim…that was really sweet of you. Just don't run yourself ragged, okay? I couldn't stand it if the play is what pushed you too far."

"Hey." He drew her close, arms looped around her waist. "Did I or did I not manage to pull off a half-decent Romeo after killing Bular with the others?"

"You did." She leaned against him, moving her purse so it hung off her shoulder. "More than half-decent. But that was when Trollmarket was well-established and people weren't going crazy with stonescale. Not to mention that school program." She rolled her eyes. "And our new furry friends."

"It might do me some good to focus on something creative for a change." Jim swept a stray lock away from her forehead. "And I'd be lying if I said I minded spending more time with you. I love seeing you onstage." She gave him a small, sly smile and pressed her lips to his in a fond, tender kiss.

Tiny squeaks and chitters interrupted the moment. The brownies were peeking out of the purse. Claire sighed and picked up her crate. "Guess we should get these guys back to New Trollmarket for now. I hope the others weren't too worried. Think they've gotten everyone up to speed about the brownies?"

"I don't know. I hope so. If not, I'll just have to explain everything to the trolls." Taking the other box, Jim followed her to the door. "I'm sure Toby and the others managed to handle these little guys for a few hours. Right?"

* * *

Claire stared at Toby. The young man stared back. His shirt was torn, his hair looked like something had been chewing on it, and his pant leg was burnt. "So. Not great?"

Toby shook his head. "The introduction was…rocky."

Jim was already in the heartstone chamber trying to figure out what to do. Claire heard snatches from the tunnel.

"Got into the quartz lamps in my shop-!"

"They're spitting on everything! _Everything_!

"I yelled at them to leave and they attacked me! I've got marker everywhere!"

"If one of those things gets anywhere near me, I'm stepping on them-!"

Claire opened her purse and the three brownies leaped out, ears pricked with interest as they scurried off. "We got the ginger. And Jim's in the play now."

Toby nodded. "Ah. Interesting." A mean-spirited cackle broke in the next room, followed by the sound of something shattering. Claire made her way into the heartstone chamber to see the damage and was not disappointed.

The heartstone itself was unharmed. It was also covered in spittle. Twenty brownies were perched atop it, spitting furiously onto it and rubbing the liquid with their paws. It smeared across the crystal in a thin film. Blinky was trying to use his staff to scoop them off the heartstone and onto the ground, but the brownies hopped over it each time, laughing wildly. "I insist you climb down this instant! This is not making a good impression!"

Another bunch dashed by, chasing Bagdwella, who was batting them back with a broom. "They're worse than gnomes! They jump higher!" she shrieked. "Every single quartz light crystal in my shop, demolished!" The brownies diverted around the broom, a furry tide. Claire grabbed a few of their tails, holding them to her chest. They wriggled but did not bite, and Claire exclaimed in anger; Aaarrrgghh was holding a set of his own, and they were spitting on his arm.

Maybe spitting was a greeting to brownies, maybe it wasn't. But the sight made her furious. She swallowed harsh words and gave the creatures a deathly glare. They ceased spitting, noses quivering in surprise. "What is going on here?"

Toby followed her, grabbing a few brownies himself. "We gathered the brownies in here to bring Trollmarket in to meet them, kind of give them the lowdown on how things work around here. But the second they spotted the heartstone they went nuts and started spitting on it. Just…just spitting!" He waved a hand emphatically. "No warning. And then another group ran in, I think they were eating rock candy or something because the changeling kiddos were upset. And these little guys are hellions on sugar."

NotEnrique came barreling in, dragging the toy bin from the changeling children's room. "Use this thing to box 'em up until we figure out what to do!" Claire deposited her batch and Toby mimicked her, the brownies protesting as the lid was shut.

"I'm sorry! It's not permanent, we just need to get things under control!" Claire held it down until NotEnrique could climb on, pinning it shut. Aaarrrgghh made it to them, dumping his armload in and grimacing at the saliva on his arm. "Anyone who doesn't want to go in the box, calm down now!" Claire yelled.

The room slowly came to a halt, like a dryer shutting off and settling into a warm heap. The brownies climbed down from the heartstone, Jim carrying eight of the ones that had been chasing Bagdwella under either arm. He placed them on the ground and pushed his hair back. "Everyone needs to take a deep breath. No spitting, no running, no talking. Just. Breathe."

Blinky came over, puffing for breath. Jim let his hands fall to his sides, gesturing for NotEnrique to open the box. The brownies within buzzed with irritation. "Sorry about that. But you guys are acting a little crazy." He knelt beside the box and the free brownies bounded over. "I think we're getting off on the wrong foot here."

"That's putting it mildly!" Another troll poked their head from one of the tunnels, staring at the mob of furry creatures. "We're itching our brains out and then these little freaks start spitting and hollering and running everywhere! We're already full up as it is, now we're housing these nuts?!"

Jim inhaled deeply. "The housing situation is in progress. Please leave them alone for right now, we're all a little frustrated."

"That's a fine thing then! Where was our Trollhunter when the brownies started rampaging?" Jim flinched and Claire saw guilt bloom in his eyes. She glared at the speaker. Oh, she was _not_ letting this start up.

"He was helping me pick up supplies for the itch relief. _Thank_ you." Claire crossed her arms. "We'll talk to the brownies. But everyone needs to do their best to be patient. They just got released from a magic box, there's going to be a learning curve!"

"I agree. Though I think the spitting needs to stop." Blinky swept the room with a weary look. "There are a few more running about, but this should be the majority." The brownies scowled and went quiet, several tails lashing. "What? I know you're probably cross, but this behavior is not conducive to getting along!"

Several brownies blew raspberries at him and Blinky made an affronted noise. Jim glanced at Aaarrrgghh. "Are you picking anything up?"

"They say…brownies do good deeds. Except for marker face. And eating lamps. But they hungry, and trolls are big and mean and angry. Brownies do not like being yelled at for doing good things." Aaarrrgghh wiped his arm, making a face at the layer of saliva that still clung to it, covering his patch of stonescale. "Not sure what good spitting is…"

At this the brownies made a wave of noise, angry and disappointed. Jim put up his hands. "He didn't mean it that way! We're just not used to people spitting on stuff. Maybe that's normal where brownies come from, but it's gotta stop. At least until we get you guys a part of the market where you can stay. Okay?"

Most of the mob made grudging sounds of agreement. Jim looked around the room haggardly. Muttering from the next tunnel made Claire squint. "Come on out guys. The situation is contained."

Several of the changeling children came into view, eyes wary. "The brownies ate all the rock candy we made!" one complained, a younger one sniffling. "We worked hard on it!"

"Aw guys." Toby put his hands on his knees. "I'm sorry. The brownies were probably really hungry and didn't know it belonged to anyone. Tell you what, we'll make a fresh batch later. I'm sure Dr. Lake and Strickler will understand. And I think Claire and Jimbo brought back some new books for you guys!" The frowns immediately lessened. "Dr. L is still helping the trolls with the worst stonescale, and I think Strickler's in his hidey hole grading papers." Toby turned in a circle. "Guess we should clean this place up. There's spit everywhere."

"I'll get a mop," Jim said. Claire hesitated, and the concern must have shown on her face because Jim met her gaze. "We can go over lines once this place is passable. And _then_ I'll finish the Spanish."

Toby checked his phone uneasily. "Dude, it's already eight. You planning on sleeping?"

"I'll take troll form. I can go longer without sleeping in it." Jim left the room and Claire chewed her lip as they waited for his return.

"He knows if he does that he's only going to crash later, right?" Toby asked after a moment.

"Yeah. This is why I didn't say anything about the play needing a replacement beast. Oh yeah," she added, seeing his surprise, "Jim's the _beast_ now, it's a big role. I wouldn't feel so bad if it were some one-off part…"

"Well, let's just help get this place fixed up. One step at a time." Toby brushed off his clothes and winced at his burnt pant leg. "Eh, I guess these can be a snack for someone. I'll change into another set."

"How did that even happen?" Claire asked. She started picking up broken crystal and stone, putting it in the empty toy chest.

"Um. Well, let's just say the brownies found a lighter we use to start the fires in the Troll Pub. They like fire. Oh, and the pub is a wreck."

Blinky shook his head; he'd been examining the heartstone with hawklike focus. "Aaarrrgghh and I will handle that room. I'm sure a few others will pitch in. I just hope the brownies will stay in the Hero's Forge for the night. I hope this spit doesn't harm the heartstone…"

"Aaarrrgghh keep watch when done." With that the four parted, two heading into the tunnels and the other two looking around in exasperation.

* * *

Jim did not fall into bed. It was more of a lurching crash. And it was only the dull panic of realizing his assignments weren't done that made him sit up. "Claire?"

He stumbled to his feet. Four hours. Four hours of scrubbing the room and sweeping and cleaning. The brownie saliva still hadn't completely come out of the heartstone, leaving a gross film on the surface. Troll form had kept him stable, but reverting had a price – the energy expended as a troll did not translate well to a human, and the room spun as his eyes ached.

Claire sat in the chair in the corner and let out a sigh. The only practice they'd had that evening was basically them saying the lines they could remember while they cleaned. Jim hoped he could remember it all. "Okay. Let's look at the Spanish."

"Right. Yeah." Jim blinked hard and considered switching back to troll form, deciding against it after a second. He had difficulty writing as a troll and the urge to be out in the night was too much of a distraction. Jim turned to his desk and shuffled a few pages around. "I think…this one. It's a short essay about the landmarks of South America. Has to be a page and a half." He sighed. "I was about half a page in." Rubbing his eyes blearily, Jim felt her looking over his shoulder. "A very rough half page."

Claire picked up the papers, taking them back to her seat to look them over. Jim wondered if he ought to look at the vocabulary worksheets but couldn't find the will to do so. He'd been okay earlier, dicing up ingredients for the stonescale treatment, but that mocha was not in his system anymore.

This was just another late night in a series, and it seemed as if they were finally catching up with him. He disliked coffee but drank it for the caffeine, but something told him even a double espresso wouldn't wake him up properly at this point. He'd probably have weird nightmares too. Caffeine always did that when he drank soda too late…like the one with the flying Food Magic blender and the ferrets…

"Jim? Jim." Claire's voice jerked him out of his reverie. "I was saying that the assignment looks good. It's a page and a half, look."

She held up the pages and Jim stared at them. "I swear I was only half a page in."

"Well, maybe you forgot working on the rest. Although…no offense, but this is better than your Spanish usually is." She frowned deeply, turning the page. "Strange."

Jim blinked slowly. "Does that mean it's sleepy time?"

She smiled at him with a sympathetic twist to her lips. "Yes, that's what it means. Get some sleep Jim. I'll look over these and then I'll sleep in your mom's room." Mom and Strickler were in New Trollmarket as often as not, and so a room was always ready for her – or any human really – so they could be comfortable in the underground. Jim wanted to protest that she was tired, that he would just look it over when he got up, but the second he sat down on the edge of his bed the world faded to the delicious, deep black of sleep.

* * *

Hoboken was never quiet, even at night. But in an alley tucked behind several buildings, with a few dumpsters bunched together, just behind a taco shop, the sounds of long-limbed creatures could be heard. Unwary passerby and homeless wanderers assumed rats and hurried away. Small animals caught the scent of foreign creatures and gave it a berth.

The goblins that lived inside the dumpsters had been there for years. They were old creatures, wily and content with the seasoned beef and old cheese and paper wrappers. They weren't so foolish as to go after humans. Rat and cat were nearly as good and much easier to obtain.

The oldest of them was a deep green, dark-eyed creature known as Tagga. He had guided the goblins for a decade, ever since their last leader had unfortunately been crushed under a tilting port-a-potty. It had been tragic. He sat atop one of the dumpsters, chewing on the remains of a rotten piece of lettuce.

He straightened, peering over the edge. Red eyes peered up at him. Another batch of goblins? He sniffed – blood goblins. They were powerful and fierce, but a seasoned goblin like Tagga did not scare easily. His pack crept out from under the garbage, a couple dozen of them, muttering warily.

"Why you in our territory?" The goblin tongue was quick and sharp, indiscernible to most other races. The blood goblins came into view, an even dozen.

"Darklands fall. Many escape through cracks. Looking for home. Share this place? Have information." The largest blood goblin climbed onto the dumpster to speak with him. "Brownies have returned."

Tagga faltered. Every goblin had heard the stories of the delicious, juicy, crunchy delicacy known as the brownie. They were small with hard feet and soft bodies, combining the firmness of stone with the sweetness of meat and blood. The parent goblins had heard stories from their parents, and their parents before them. "Have proof?"

The goblin put out his fist, tiny hairs clenched in his fingers. "Smell." Tagga sniffed it – the fur had a delicate, sweet smell, one that made his mouth water – and waited as his pack followed suit. "Protected by mixed-up monster. Human and troll, but not exactly changeling. Trollhunter."

Tagga growled. "Not making war with a Trollhunter over snacks."

"Coward. Goblins always follow, follow, follow. Never do what we want. Gunmar gone. Janus Order fractured. Goblins rise?" The blood goblin shrugged. "Brownies full of magic, make us stronger. Trollhunter can't protect them all. Make mistakes, we eat them."

Tagga's pack muttered with interest. He cocked his head. "Why you ask us?"

"Need bigger group. Too many for us. Plenty for all, and to keep for future brownies." The goblin put out his bony hand. "Deal? You and me lead together?"

Tagga glanced down at his hungry, downtrodden group. Even if they did want to refuse, blood goblins were not known to forgive those that didn't do what they wanted. He put out his hand and shook the blood goblin's, foreheads knocking together. They sniffed each other and with the peculiar magic known only to goblins, linked their minds so their packs could operate as one. "Deal."

End of Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Greetings all, and Happy Halloween. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. It's so busy during this part of the year, I hope to update more quickly but I can't promise anything. Day to day life is distracting, isn't it?

* * *

Chapter 4

Making Friends is Super Hard

* * *

Toby ambled into the Lake house and sat on the sofa, arms and legs throbbing. "Everything hurts."

"If a metric ton of crystal can't keep these guys fed for a while, we're in deep trouble." Claire rubbed her arms, stretching as she sat beside him. "Oh, sitting feels good." Toby nodded – it had taken them hours, but the gyre was finally filled with box after box of broken crystal, both from the heartstone and the miscellaneous gems that made up the market before its destruction. Jim's troll form and their multiple carriers had made it a fairly simple errand to transport everything. If very, very tiring.

Now Jim was sprawled sideways in an armchair, limp as a shoestring. He opened his eyes and glanced around the chair. "So…remind me again how many animals you've taken in?" Toby peeked back and saw a goat standing on the hardwood floor, looking as if it owned the room. It bleated at them.

The house was definitely different. Mordred's influence was obvious; birds had perches and settled whenever they pleased, twittering and eating at any one of the bowls of seeds and berries in the house. Toby spotted elaborate birdhouses installed on the walls. He wondered if Mordred had made them, as they had a rough hewn feel to them and were painted in thick, bright colors. Rabbits sat in the corner munching on some green plant, and a pair of cats were grooming themselves on the back of the sofa. In spite of the animals, Toby couldn't detect odor from feces or dirt – the scents of fruit and timothy hay were sweet.

Mordred clicked his tongue and the goat perked up, trotting over to him. He crooned to her, rubbing her ears. "Twenty-four not counting the birds, they come and go as they like. Nutmeg here just had a kid a couple weeks ago, she's a little anxious." She didn't look it as Mordred's gentle fingers rubbed her head, eyes shut blissfully. "Nibbles, come on!" Toby cocked his head as Mordred called. There was something weird about his voice, something that reminded him of the underbrush and fur rustling. Mordred noticed his expression and smiled. "Most people can't pick up on it."

"So James was telling us you talk to animals, right? You can tell them to do things?" Toby asked. Mordred frowned as if he disliked the thought.

"I can _ask_ them. And they don't understand complicated things – I just tell them that if they want to stay, they'll be safe and fed here. And they can't leave droppings indoors. Things like that. They don't understand words very well, more like…intent. And feelings." The clatter of tiny hooves made him light up. "Ah, Nibbles. There you are." A tiny goat kid came leaping into his arms, bleating loudly.

The door shut and James sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, they go outside and everything. Mordred's just got such a big heart for animals that whenever we find one…"

Toby suppressed a laugh. After everything Mordred had gone through, he couldn't blame James for wanting to spoil him some. Especially when he wanted to take care of homeless animals. The young man looked so different from the last time they'd seen him – his skin was darkening to tan, likely from hours outdoors even in the winter. His wild hair had been mastered into a ponytail, and he wore clothes that James probably picked out, blue jeans and long-sleeved shirts. One might think he was a handsome, ordinary guy that liked his hair long. But Toby could see tiny signs of the truth. He fidgeted a little, the way a kid expected to stand still for long periods of time might. He laughed loud, without a filter. He didn't seem aware of his size, sometimes hugging Jim so hard he was lifted off the floor. Jim took it in stride.

Draig trotted into the room, carrying a bag by the straps in his jaws. "Oh yeah – Jim, does this look familiar at all? Draig's still rooting around in the wreck and found this the other day." Jim sat up as James brought the bag over, giving Draig a fond pat. "It's this weird old box with a bunch of jewels in it. Sounded like the thing you mentioned a while back."

Jim's face lit up. "The stones! From the previous Trollhunters!" He carefully tilted the lid back, examining the crystals. "You found them!"

James looked pleased. Claire gave the box a wary look. "Let's give that one a wide berth, hm? I don't know if I could handle Romantic Jim again." She pointed at a particular rock.

"I don't know, Whiny Jim was pretty annoying." Jim shut the box. "I appreciate you guys still keeping an eye out. Hopefully we can find more things that'll help New Trollmarket." Draig barked and licked his hands.

Toby shook his head. "Yeah, last thing we need is a bunch of single-personality-facet Jim clones running around again."

Mordred blinked. "Wouldn't it be easier to get things done if there were more of you? Well, at least until they all ganged up on you or something and tried to take out the original you." Jim started. Had James told him about that? The three looked at James, who patted Mordred's shoulder.

"He's been watching cartoons lately, he really likes them. You know, there's always the 'clone yourself and it goes awful' episode."* James leaned casually against the side of the armchair. "So, that's a pretty good birthday gift I guess."

"Definitely. These stones have been around for centuries, I'd hate for that to get lost. I'll give them to Blinky when we get back." Jim met his father's eye and frowned. The man was giving him an exasperated look. "…What?"

"If you seriously think I'm going let a box of rocks be the first birthday present I give you after being gone for years, you're nuttier than an acorn tree." James ruffled his hair. "C'mon kid, what do you want for your birthday?" Jim buried his face in one hand. "Seriously, there's gotta be something."

"If you'd asked me a few months ago, I would have said, 'I'd like to be human again.' And you guys already made that happen." Jim traced a thumb down the box absently. "I really don't want anything else. Everyone's already done so much."

Toby stood up, stretching before miming adjusting something over Jim's head. "Sorry Jimbo, just making sure your halo is on straight. You make Boy Scouts look like members of the Bratva." Jim rolled his eyes. "Come on dude, just pick something. New blender, gift card, Gun Robot limited edition pez dispenser?"

"Pony?" James interjected. Jim's brows rose. "What, you liked ponies when you were a kid. That not a thing now? I got a pony for my thirteenth birthday…horses are great."

"Seriously, if we can just ignore my birthday this year it'd be great." Jim got up and gave them all a severe look. "I mean it. No surprise party. I'd rather put the energy into making some kind of shelter for the brownies and making sure they can be safe."

Mordred had watched this exchange with fascination. "How big are the brownies?"

"About four inches tall, but there are five hundred of them." Mordred absorbed this thoughtfully. "I'm going to head back to the gyre and make sure everything's tied down. We can leave in a little while if you want to visit in Arcadia," Jim added, looking at Claire in particular.

"We'll meet you down there in a bit." Claire folded her arms as he left. As soon as the door clicked shut she turned to the three. "He really does hate surprise parties."

"Darn, there goes that idea." James scratched his head furiously. "What was his favorite birthday gift ever? Give me a reference point."

Toby hummed uneasily. "Well, Blink did manage to get all the parts for a Vespa. They built it together." James sat in the newly vacated chair, mulling this over. "Then Merlin used it to build armor for Claire and me…still feel bad about that. Maybe we can get a new Vespa for him? They're a pretty penny new…"

James waved a hand. "Money's not the issue. I just want it to be something meaningful, y'know? You say Blinky actually found working parts for a Vespa? That's commitment right there."

"A little friendly Dad competition?" Claire asked, tone gentle. James shrugged a shoulder mulishly. "Maybe you and Blinky can brainstorm. I bet Jim would like anything you two worked together to make or do." Toby straightened – now _that_ was a good idea. "I'm going to check in on my parents before leaving. Keep us posted, okay?"

"Will do." James winced as Nibbles butted his side. "It had to be goats."

* * *

Barbara traced a gentle circle on the changeling's back. "Right there?"

"Uh huh. It's really itchy." Calaba gave her a doleful look. "I think I've got stonescale."

Barbara sighed. "I think you do too sweetie. Let me get some balm and we'll wash you off." The little girl climbed down from the cot and Barbara took the time to disinfect it before leading her to the kiddie pool. "You'll need to stay separate from the other kids until it clears up, especially the little ones."

She looked sad. "I can't play with them?"

"Not tag or anything where you touch. But you can play games and dollies if you wear gloves and a clean shirt. I'll get you set up. Aaarrrgghh?" The large troll perked up – he'd been applying a fresh layer of balm to his arm. "Would you do me a favor and bring Calaba's blankets and bed clothes so I can give them a wash? Her toys too please." In all honesty it was probably too late to prevent it from spreading, but Barbara had to try something. The troll nodded and finished with the application, setting the container down and leaving the infirmary.

As he left Walter stepped through, nodding at the larger troll. "Ah, Calaba. It's struck at last?" The girl nodded unhappily. Nomura was behind him, both in human form. "I'm sorry to hear that. Don't worry, I won't expect you to focus on schoolwork until you're well." His voice was gentle with sympathy.

Barbara stroked Calaba's hair. "And _may_ be we can arrange a little get well card or two from the class, hm?" The little girl perked up and Walter nodded. Barbara always felt warm when he looked at her, eyes gentle and creased with a smile.

"As always you are the physician to the spirit as well as the body." He took her hand and kissed her fingers swiftly. Calaba giggled and Barbara shook her head amusedly. "I was bringing these little creatures by. They were hiding out in one of the gnome caverns, and the gnomes didn't take it well." Ten brownies skittered behind him, looking irritated. Calaba glared at them.

"You meanies ate our candy." The lead brownie drew himself up and chattered angrily at her. "I don't even know what you're saying!" Calaba crossed her arms and hid behind Barbara. "Why are they so mean?"

"I don't think they're trying to be. They just don't understand." Barbara knelt and one brownie approached, sniffing her hands. "Blinky said something about gifts making them happy. Have we tried giving them something nice?"

"Aside from trying to shelter them and get food for them, technically no." Nomura sat in the nearest chair. "I came by to pick up some mint and ginseng, I figured you had some in the supply closet." Barbara nodded and went to fetch the herbs. "Let me see…"

Nomura put a hand in her pocket and drew out a handkerchief. "If someone tried to give me this as a gift, I'd be pretty disappointed." Walter mimicked her and found only a plain pen in his breast pocket. Barbara fished around in her scrubs and discovered the Roman penny that had been given to her.

"Hm. Let's try anyway, they might like this stuff." Barbara held out her hand and four of the brownies gathered around. "I'd like to give this to you as a token of friendship and respect. It's a very old piece of currency used by humans. Also, it's shiny." It was dark but still held luster when she tilted it. The brownies' eyes grew huge. The leader accepted it and let out a high-pitched, delighted screech. Barbara flinched as the set jumped in place, whooping with glee. "Uh…okay."

Nomura shook her head. "Weird little guys. But here." She offered her handkerchief, clean and folded neatly. "Maybe one of you can use it for a blanket?" More whooping occurred, and when Walter gave them the pen, the entire room echoed with the tumult. The ten calmed after a moment, chittering to each other seriously, before darting around Barbara and staring at Calaba.

Then they started spitting on her. She squealed and fled the room, brownies in hot pursuit, and Barbara winced. "Oh…that didn't work. Guys, stop! Stop it!" She darted after them, Walter right behind and Nomura a step beyond.

* * *

"How much saliva can they generate?" Claire stood back from the box, exasperated as the furry creatures surged around it, hauling out bits of broken crystal and munching away. "Maybe they'll be better with full stomachs."

Blinky made a circle around the group. In one set of arms he held the box of Trollhunter stones. "I'm truly glad we've gotten these back. I'll lock them up so none of our mischievous friends gets the wrong idea about them. They might liken it to a box of bonbons!" He shook his head. "Certainly trolls of different types have unique cultures, but I've never heard of spitting being anything but gross and rude."

Jim lifted his head. "Is there a musical number in Beauty and the Beast?"

Toby hit the crystal once more, breaking the large chunks into easy-to-eat slivers. He set Warhammer down. "Yep. Several, actually."

"I mean for the beast. I will throw myself off stage before singing in front of a bunch of strangers." Claire sat beside him, scanning the open script in his lap.

"No, this one's not going to have that number. It's closer to the movie, and Jeff wasn't a great singer.." Jim sighed with relief. Then he started – his phone was buzzing. He took the call, looking concerned.

"Merlin? Hi, yeah, I was worried yesterday. Did you get away from the police okay?" He was silent for a moment. "Uh huh. So Cato's all right? Glad to hear that. Have you found another one of your studies then?" Silence again, and this time Jim's face went ashen. " _What do you mean you broke into Buckingham Palace!?_ " Claire covered her mouth in horror. Jim swallowed his shrieks, a visible strain. "The Queen's Guard never reacts when you try to talk to them. That's their thing! Passerby always bug them and they don't respond. That doesn't mean they're under some kind of control...yes, they wear those odd hats on purpose. They're not being controlled." Jim planted his face against the wall, leaving his mouth free so he could speak. "I get it, I understand. You were trying to help. Please tell me no one saw you."

Toby shook his head wordlessly. Claire exchanged a look with Strickler and Barbara, who both had eerily similar, exasperated expressions. Nomura was holding back laughter. "Okay. That's good. Merlin, it's really great that you were concerned for the guards, but if you would call before doing something like that, I'd really appreciate it."

A soon-to-be seventeen-year-old should not sound like an exasperated, middle-aged parent. Toby waited until Jim hung up before saying, "Where's he off to next?"

"Russia. Pray he doesn't reignite the Cold War." Jim groaned. "I shouldn't have let him go alone. He means well but he doesn't understand things!"

"Jim, it's not your job to babysit him. You know he would never have let anyone boss him around anyway." Barbara's voice was cool. "We should figure out these little guys first. We're good on food and Aaarrrgghh was going to look into making more housing for them. What we need to worry about now is communication, boundaries, and safety."

Strickler wrapped an arm around her, stroking her back soothingly. "I agree. If they can't abide by certain rules…I have to wonder if they'll be able to stay here peacefully." Toby recoiled mentally – they couldn't just send the brownies away. Not for dumb little things like spitting everywhere. And terrorizing some of the trolls. And making messes, possibly putting the heartstone at risk, and angering trolls to the point of violence.

Claire seemed to be thinking the same thing as him, if the worry on her face meant anything. Jim crossed his arms, amulet in one hand. Toby hadn't even seen him take it out of his pocket; it had become a grounding technique, something to ease his anxiety. "We'll figure it out. We can't just send them away, it's not right." He glanced down and his brows creased. "And…now they're spitting on the leftovers."

Toby knelt to watch them. "There must be a reason they're doing it. They ate most of it, they're not grossed out." The brownies seemed cheerful as they spat on the flecks of crystal. "I just wish we could understand them properly. Wingman's good, but they talk so differently from gnomes."

Blinky twisted his hands together uneasily. "I'll research them more. And I'll give Dictatious a call. There must be a method of communing in a way we can both understand."

Claire tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe Merlin would have some kind of potion? Something to let us understand other languages. We can ask when he gets back."

"He should return before the month is out. Surely we can last that long?" Strickler said calmly. They all shared a long, pensive look as the brownies continued spitting with no apparent effect on the crystal.

* * *

Kwagga was a mild mannered goblin. He liked naps in warm, dry places, raw beef washed down with a tankard of glug, and a good game of Mahjong. He was not fond of the hairy little creatures that had invaded the market.

They lay in piles in the Hero's Forge, covered in blankets and snuggled in together. He grimaced; he'd come down to look for a few gnome friends, forgetting the the budding battleground was now sheltering the brownies. A few of them kept watch and their ears shot up when they saw him. Tails lashing, they chirped warnings in his direction. He grumbled and crawled back out the tunnel.

He could understand the brownies being nervous. All goblins had heard of the delicious flavor of the brownie. But however good they smelled, Kwagga felt queasy at the idea of eating any creature that seemed to be able to use some semblance of cognitive reason. Goblins had eaten humans before, and the thought chilled him. Their troll hunters and doctor were mainly humans, and harming any of them was unthinkable. They were odd and bathed too often and seemed entirely too fixated on rules and propriety, but there was no question that things were better in New Trollmarket than it ever would have been without them. And one day it might even be better than Heartstone Trollmarket too.

He forced himself not to stop and scratch – his back was doing better with the balm, but nothing could alleviate all the itch – and pushed ahead through the tunnel.

Kwagga stopped and sniffed. The fuzz along his chops stiffened. He turned in place, ears twitching. "Who there? I don't know your smell."

From behind rocks and cracks and from tiny openings – the beginnings of tunnels that would branch off into yet unbuilt rooms – goblins crept forward. "Kin," one whispered. "You live among trolls?"

Immediately the pull of the hive mind started. Kwagga yanked his will back, flinching. He would not be pushed into a goblin mob like so many. "Live here, yes. Safe. How you reach this place?"

"All places have holes. All dwellings have mice." There were two leaders. He could sense their individual wills and knew they were different. One was ravenous hunger, something dark. The other was old, a little tired, concerned for a group. A "normal" goblin, one that might be reasoned with. Kwagga found the eldest goblin and fixed his eyes on the old creature. The blood goblin leader leered. "Where are brownies?"

Kwagga cocked his head. "Bakeries. Have many pastries. Yum." The blood goblin scowled. "Oh, you mean furry ones?" There was no point pretending they weren't there; these goblins had come for only one thing, and they definitely knew about the creatures. Could he get the troll hunters to help in time? "Think they near heartstone."

"You join us, eat with us. Do not lie to us." The blood goblin scuttled over to him, rising on his legs to be taller than Kwagga. "I Fama. I know when little goblins lie."

Kwagga smiled in a friendly fashion. "Ah, just remember. Many this way too." He turned around and pointed. "Down there. Many juicy, sweet brownies, yummy and crunchy." Several of the goblins peered around him, distracted by the prospect.

In a breath Kwagga jumped to the side and over the rest, springing on all fours toward the heart of New Trollmarket, scattered yells following him. "Trollhunter! Trollhunter! Danger in the forge!" he screamed, pelting as fast as his legs would carry him.

* * *

Jim woke to see the white mass of a textbook page and smeared graphite. He lifted his head and grunted, finding that his pencil was stuck to his forehead. "Midnight…dang. How many more assignments do I have?"

He rubbed his eyes blearily. A blanket had been placed over his shoulders – probably Blinky or one of the others had seen him and left it – and he held on to it, appreciating the warmth. "Algebra's close enough. Only a couple problems left." He shut the book, looking instead to his Spanish book. "Just a worksheet for you I think."

Standing up, Jim bent backwards until his back popped. "C'mon, not too much more. The stonescale won't last forever, and the brownies will settle in eventually." He sighed. "Talking to yourself. Great sign."

It was a physical pain for him to see the trolls in such discomfort as they had been lately. Grumpy and whiny as they could be, he was in charge of protecting them. He knew they were doing everything they could – everyone was insistent that the efforts were the best possible – but it didn't make it any easier to watch. And the brownies running wild was something that had to stop.

At least no one was in real danger, right? Aside from some trodden tails and rashes, no one was at risk of getting hurt. He'd check for signs of the goblins at the practice tomorrow. Jim smacked his face, jolting awake, and looked down at the Spanish assignment. He hadn't gotten that far in it, had he? This was the second time he didn't remember completing something…

A shriek made him jump, running out of his alcove and instinctively donning Moonlight. The feeling of his horns and teeth ripping outward always hurt, but the pain woke him up more and he was glad for it. Kwagga came sprinting up to him, crashing into his shins. "What's wrong, what is it?"

Normal goblins couldn't manage human language, but Kwagga howled and pointed toward the tunnel to the Hero's Forge, and that was enough. The brownies were down there. Jim scooped up the goblin and took off, dropping to all fours when the tunnel grew rougher.

Pandemonium had erupted in the forge. Five hundred brownies were a maelstrom of terror and flicking tails as they ran. No fewer than three dozen goblins were chasing them, teeth snapping, and Jim recognized none of their scents from those in the market. He snarled loudly, making a few of the nearest creatures flinch in surprise. "Get out! Now!"

Only one looked unperturbed. It was a blood goblin, pink eyes looking wet and sly. He'd snatched one of the older brownies, the creature squealing in fear. In the time it took to blink, the goblin chomped down on the brownie's tail and swallowed it like a spaghetti noodle.

Jim roared, hitting the ground a few inches from the goblin, who released the brownie and backed up hastily. The little thing whimpered and Jim muttered soothingly to it. "It's okay. You'll be all right. Just hold the wound, keep pressure on it." The brownie obeyed and Jim picked it up, settling it in the collar of his armor. The scent of its blood was earthy, spicy, and the goblin was licking his chops greedily.

Jim dove for it, claws missing by a hair. The blood goblin cackled and moved with a speed that shocked him. "Brownie magic! Fama has now!"

Goblins shouldn't be this fast. Had ingesting the brownie's tail done this? The goblin flitted from place to place, Jim always a moment behind. The brownies dodged them both, the other goblins cowering as each landed and jumped again. "Run, run! Trollhunter is fast!" The speaking goblin led the way toward the tunnel. "Retreat for now!"

Jim tried to get to them, but the brownies were in the way. He risked stepping on the little creatures if he rushed. Furious, he pushed a hand between his horns and gathered the magic string between them. He flung it forward, into the tunnel, and though the goblins disappeared into the tiny openings that had never been a cause for concern before, one unlucky creature was tangled in the shining threads. It yelped, falling over like a tied hog, and Jim reached it as the rest of the tunnel went quiet save for the tiny scrabbles of goblin claws.

The goblin squalled and shook, baring its teeth. It was a normal one like Kwagga, a very dark green with old, wily eyes. Jim knelt, picking him up firmly and letting the threads vanish. The goblin waved its arms and legs, flailing, but Jim never lost his grip. "Stop. I'm not going to hurt you as long as you cooperate." The brownies grouped in the opening to the forge, whispering and staring. The injured one poked his nose out and hissed.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, the goblin stopped fighting. Kwagga growled at him and Jim realized for the first time that the goblin had been holding onto his hair the whole time. Jim shifted back to human form, relieved by the return of his tactile senses. The brownie at his neck was soft and furry, and the little creature whined as he licked his tail, climbing into Jim's jacket pocket. The enemy goblin blinked at the change. "Yeah, human Trollhunter that has a changeling troll form." Jim held the goblin out like a cat given to clawing. "You and I are going to have a talk buddy. I don't take kindly to people threatening others around here. And you are going to tell me how you got in here." He turned his head to see Kwagga adjusting his weight to Jim's shoulder. "You're a hero Kwagga. If it wasn't for you, I might have gotten here too late."

Kwagga pulled a dog treat from somewhere on his person and munched on it, grinning jauntily. "Chaka-wa!"

End of Chapter 4

* * *

In case you were wondering, I do not plan on going the "clone to get everything done" route. The only time I've truly enjoyed that trope was in Gravity Falls, though it was rather amusing in Trollhunters since they weren't plain "clones."


	5. Chapter 5

Happy Saturday all! I hope this finds you well. I have no particularly creative salutation today, so on with the show.

* * *

Chapter 5

Things Could Be Worse

* * *

The tubby human planted his hands on the table and lowered his head. His mouth was full of metal and Tagga winced. Would he be diced to pieces? Would the boy eat him? He'd never heard of humans eating goblins, but he supposed turnabout was fair play. And he'd never seen a troll that was actually a human _and_ the Trollhunter to boot.

He'd heard whispers that the Trollhunter was odd of course. But no real detail had come this far, especially not to goblins. The hefty boy did not bite him. "All right, we know you have friends. How'd you get into New Trollmarket without a horngazel?"

The Trollhunter was a waif compared to the other boy, stringy and lean. He had lines under his eyes and looked tired behind the serious angle of his brows. Tagga spotted a woman who had the same eyes working at the next table, bandaging the brownie that had been attacked by Fama.

The blood goblin's mind had been full of bloodlust and hunger. Tagga had expected that. What he hadn't expected was the incredible willpower that came with it, nor the way it eroded his own will. He had realized upon their entry to the market that this was a bad plan, but every thought of dissuasion burnt away as if in a fever. He was getting old indeed if he couldn't feel his mind being melded into that of the hive's leader. And now he would pay for it, probably with his life. At least his group had gotten away all right.

They would fall under Fama's control as head of the hive so far from Tagga. He grunted, rattling the internal door of the cage they'd padlocked shut – not, though, without a mug of water and a candy bar in the corner – and cursed whoever had invented the cat carrier.

The truly frightening creature was the massive krubera. He lacked the graceful movements of his species, instead hulking like a beast. He stood behind the boys, glowering faintly. Tagga plopped onto his rear and gibbered fearfully. "Hey, it's okay. If you tell us how you and the others got in, we're not going to hurt you." The Trollhunter glanced at the other boy and Tagga suddenly got the idea that they didn't really want to hurt him in the first place.

Tagga made a tiny "o" with his fingers and pointed upward. "Cha-wa-chaka. Ka-doo?"

Their eyes were blank. Tagga sighed. The woman in the back brought the brownie over and Tagga wilted as the little thing keened in pain. "Walter's on his way. He can understand goblins pretty well."

Brownies were supposed to be delicious, but there was an awareness to the brownie he hadn't expected. To be very frank, Tagga didn't even care that much for cat. He was a rotten-lettuce sort of fellow. Tagga glanced at the candy bar; would they have poisoned it? Not if they wanted him to talk. He tore a small piece off and nibbled it, surprised and pleased at the thick nougat and sweetness.

A changeling swept into the room, green with pale hair and a frill of daggers around his neck. He caught sight of Tagga and ignored him in favor of the woman. "There are no others remaining," he said lowly. "They abandoned him. The other must be the lead of the hive mind now."

His stomach clenched. They weren't as strong as blood goblins. If any were left behind, it would be them. Tagga whined – there hadn't been any choice but to join minds, but it was going to be even more disastrous than he could have imagined if something attacked them.

The changeling knelt and looked into the carrier. "What are you called?"

"Tagga. Former leader of pack. Joined with blood goblins, said there were brownies. They wanted us to help get them." His yellow eyes were calculating, sharp, but they weren't malicious. "Already knew about them."

"How did you get in?"

"Tiny, tiny holes in all markets. Need air currents, even for trolls. These in places where tunnel goes close to surface. Can show you," Tagga added hopefully. The changeling didn't respond, turning to relay the information to the others instead.

The Trollhunter looked agonized. "The goblins at the school. I left enough scent that they would be warded off…but maybe they tracked it here?" Tagga shook his head. He'd never seen goblins so sensitive to smell as their blood kin, but they'd been confused at the scent of troll disappearing so suddenly.

"Blood goblins followed smell of brownies in bag of female with Trollhunter, didn't understand why troll smell went away, but then felt heartstone here. Tingles in toes. Put together, figured out this place must have brownies. Didn't realize Trollhunter was so…unusual." Tagga waited for the changeling to explain, chewing on the chunk of candy. He'd never had a real, fresh candy bar. He savored the taste. Maybe humans had the right idea making so many kinds of foods.

The Trollhunter's face reddened. "If any of them try getting at Claire-!"

"No, no. Not going after human girl. Only pay attention to brownie. Goblins bad at multitasking, get distracted."

"Do you know anything more of the leader's plans? His name is Fama, correct?" The changeling wore funny clothes for a troll, a brown suit and blue shirt. Tagga had never seen such an odd combination.

"He wants to eat brownies, get strong magic. He wants goblins to rise to power now that Gunmar is gone and the Janus order is cracked to core." The latter part could have been worded better, he thought, but the changeling merely folded his arms, thinking.

The woman leaned against him, the changeling absently resting his chin atop her head. Were they mates? Such strange people! "We should have someone stationed to watch the Hero's Forge. Just in case they return," she said.

The Trollhunter nodded. "I'll stake it out tonight."

The krubera grunted. "Aaarrrgghh watch. Jim go to sleep. Got practice tomorrow, need rest." The Trollhunter's jaw set. The large troll patted his back so gently that Tagga marveled. "Do good job in play for Claire. I watch tonight, others watch tomorrow. Humans are all tired."

"Capital idea," the changeling said, taking the woman's hand. She adjusted her glasses to rub at her eyes. "I'll inform Nomura, she can assist. Blinky is asleep last I checked. He dozed off while reading in his study."

"What about this little guy?" The heavy boy indicated the carrier and Tagga's heart thumped a steady rhythm in fear. "I don't think we can let him go."

"Not yet. Maybe once we drive off the blood goblins." The Trollhunter leveled a serious look at the goblin. "You don't seem to be too interested in eating the brownies yourself. We can't release you yet, but if you behave, we'll let you go after dealing with the blood goblins. For tonight you'll stay in the carrier." He dug into his pockets and withdrew a clean, white handkerchief. He poked it through the openings in the bars. "We'll get a little cushion for you."

Tagga cackled nervously. This was too funny! A trollish human Trollhunter, a chubby friend with a metal mouth, a nearly mute krubera, a changeling that still had his human form, and a human woman that could doctor brownies mated to the changeling? What a strange group! But he accepted the handkerchief, absurdly pleased by the clean smell of it. Very few would have wasted time on a captured goblin. But they said they planned to let him go. They could be lying of course, but trying to get on their good side was the only reasonable choice.

Maybe the goblin that lived here had the right idea.

* * *

"Okay, so it's here, pause here, turn there. Don't turn your back to the audience, it's bad theatre manners." Claire sipped at her water bottle as Kim directed Jim through the steps. There were cardboard boxes in place of the set, easy to move and unimportant if damaged. "If you can do the thing earlier where you were prowling…the rose is your curse but also your only hope. You love it but resent it. It'll be glowing and give your face a red cast."

Claire tensed slightly. Jim's movements as a troll were smooth, almost animal, but how well could he move in human form for rehearsals? If he acted too differently they might get suspicious…

Jim moved around the "table" and she was surprised by the grace. He was focused, careful, and she could easily imagine him in troll form doing the same movements. Not that Jim had ever been overtly klutzy – at least, not when he paid attention – but it was still interesting to watch.

"Perfect, your motions are just right. A little creativity in the scenes when you're alone is all right, just keep within these parameters." Kim's hair was flyaway, a sure sign of nervous energy. Claire's eyes slid back to Jim as he listened and nodded.

He shouldn't have to worry about this. Not when goblins had found the brownies and knew the kinks and crannies of New Trollmarket. Or, a slightly irritable part of her said, maybe if the other trolls offered to help more he wouldn't have to do so much. Bagdwella was stepping up and helping out, even if it was just cleaning the light crystals. The changeling children enjoyed slathering the heartstone in protective goo. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh were always helping and guiding of course, and Strickler and Nomura were excellent protectors and teachers. Even NotEnrique chipped in to help Glug and keep pub patrons happy. He had a surprising skill for mixing beverages.

It wasn't that the other trolls didn't try or anything. Claire hated to think poorly of the majority of them. But in Heartstone Trollmarket, everything had been established, the market growing with ease for hundreds of years. There had always been food and protection there, and a Trollhunter with singleminded focus on the mission. But it hadn't been fair to Kanjigar – or Draal – that the Trollhunter couldn't have some kind of life outside of duty.

Claire's fist clenched in her lap. They just needed to understand that if everyone pitched in, just a little, it would make Jim's burden less. And everyone else's too. But until Jim told someone no, the trolls would never figure it out.

Jim had a very horrible track record with saying "no" to anyone that wanted help. She watched as he studied the script and sighed. She rested her case.

"How does he look so much taller in the costume?" One of the other actors leaned over to speak in undertone. "Is it boots or something?"

"Yeah, specially designed." Please don't ask anymore. Thankfully he didn't, looking down at his script. Claire glanced toward the ceiling, wondering if the goblins might have returned in spite of Jim's marking the balcony.

Jim turned and spotted her, smiling. She returned it and gave him a thumbs up. It was going better than she could have hoped. She liked acting with him, heck, spending time with him period. But acting together was magical. He wasn't the same nice, awkward guy that had tried out for Romeo and Juliet. Sure he was still sweet, and a little awkward too, but almost a year had passed. He'd gotten a little taller, shoulders a little broader. And his hair looked really good shorter.

Claire blinked at this thought and she looked back down at her script, cheeks flushing. Now was _not_ the time to start thinking about how her already-cute boyfriend was growing up and getting even cuter. She herself had changed a bit in the year; she was finding "girly" clothes more appealing than before, and her form had shifted ever so slightly toward what _might_ be an hourglass. If she didn't gave her mom's genes and tended toward rail thin.

"Okay Claire, want to try the dance scene? I've got markers for the choreography, the lighting will make it look fancier than it really is when we go on." Jim blanched as she rose and Claire took the steps quickly. Kim ushered her over, bringing her over to Jim and settling their hands in the proper places. "Beast's right hand on her waist, Belle's left hand on his shoulder. Take it slow, get a feel for the movements." Kim guided them from place to place, indicating the places they should stop and start again.

"You're doing great," Claire whispered, hoping to ease the stiffness in his motions. "Maybe we should watch the movie for inspiration."

"Sounds like you're trying to rope me into watching a Disney movie with you," he whispered back. She grinned. "Which I don't object to."

Hours passed and practice went on. Kim was a hawk watching them, gently directing or adjusting the actors as needed. When five 'o' clock finally came, Claire's stomach was growling. Kim provided sandwiches for everyone, and then they were back to practice. When at last they were truly finished – nine at night – Claire's feet ached. "Everyone is doing so, so awesome! Thank you for all your patience! Take a break tomorrow and we'll do another run through Wednesday." Kim's eyes flashed with excitement. "Those kids are going to be blown away!"

Alberto was already at the curb outside the university, reading a battered book. "Ms. Nuñez, Mr. Lake. Rehearsals going all right?"

"All things considered, yeah. We're meeting our LARP group same place. You belong among the saints for being so awesome Alberto," Claire told him. He grinned and didn't answer, putting up the privacy screen. Claire leaned on Jim, head on his shoulder. Jim rested his head on hers. "I'm going to sleep well tonight," she said.

He turned his head to kiss her hair. "Have you been helping me with my Spanish homework without telling me? Like, doing part of it?"

She blinked. "No. I mean, there's an idea, but I haven't been. Why?"

"I think someone is doing parts of it. I'm not sure, but unless my subconscious is writing good Spanish when I'm passing out, there's no way it's me." Jim sighed into her hair, ruffling her bangs. "The brownies don't stop spitting no matter what we say. Claire, we have to get them to understand. The trolls are so fed up with everything. And all the bickering going on is about to drive me up the wall." She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Just think of the trolls as big toddlers. That eat rock and can punch through walls. They're just fussy right now." He snorted amusedly.

They said nothing else for some time, appreciating the simple quiet. Claire checked her phone for messages, finding one from Darci. "Claire Bear, prom is coming up. Toby and I are going, but we can each get an extra ticket. You and Jim should come with!"

Claire paused, tucking her phone down to hide the screen. Had Jim seen? She peeped up and realized he had fallen asleep, his head atop hers. His eyes were shut, breath even. She flipped her phone back over. "When is it?"

The date was for the day after the play, a little less than two weeks. The play was Friday, and prom was Saturday…she'd asked off Friday and she never went into the office on Saturday except on special occasions. Her schedule was clear. Maybe she could look for a dress tomorrow after work, and then get to New Trollmarket after that. If Jim could make it, that is…

"Have to see what the next week looks like. It's pretty busy, but you are both so sweet to think of that."

There was little delay in the reply. "Toby thought of it. And nice way of saying, 'I'll see if my boyfriend can drag himself out of the market for a couple hours for some fun.'" Claire cringed.

"That obvious, huh? Sorry, I just don't want to pack anything else into his schedule. He's already playing the beast for me, and I'm sure Toby's told you about how crazy the market it."

"Yeah, but it's no crime to take a night off. For him or you. When was the last time you guys had a date? A real one, not going into town to get ingredients, or for the play, or doing homework together."

Claire bit her tongue and rounded down. "A couple weeks."

"Toby says four."

"Nosy Nancy." Claire fiddled with her phone. "It sounds like fun. I'll see if he can't make room."

There was a longer pause before the response came. "You know it's okay to go to prom with a group of friends, right? If he can't make it." Claire immediately recoiled from the thought. Go to prom without her Jim? That was like…like…studying acting without ever reading any Shakespeare. Or listening to Papa Skull without dancing like a maniac. It missed eighty-five percent of the beauty. "You can go together for senior prom next year."

Claire wondered how Darci would like to go to prom without Toby. And there really were things in Trollmarket that needed attention, like the brownies being threatened. But she held her fingers still before sending, "I'll think about it."

She _had_ been away from Mary and Darci for a while. She missed their girl nights, the evenings with pajamas and makeovers and triple-meat pizza where they gushed over their favorite shows. And prom was supposed to be fun when you went as a group. But going without Jim…it felt wrong to even consider.

The car slowed and she gently nudged Jim. He sat up, eyes wide. "Did I doze off?"

"Yeah. Just for a little bit." He climbed out of the car and held the door for her, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Thanks Alberto! We'll see you later." He nodded at her, waiting until they'd started into the trees before making a u-turn and heading back toward the city. Claire had picked her way through the trees so often that it was automatic to find the slight path she'd formed. It was a few places the grass grew differently, a couple spots on tree trunks where the branches were gone.

Jim did have a grace she hadn't noticed. Perhaps it was left over from his movements as a troll, or maybe his training was continuing to impact him, but he moved fluidly between the trees and over brambles. "Darci texted me a bit ago," Claire said at last. "Apparently prom is coming up."

"Really? Wow…I guess it is about that time of year." Jim offered her a hand as they made it to a fallen tree. It smelled of sap and bare wood, and the splinters where it had tumbled from its roots were fresh. "I'll move this at night. She and Toby are going, right?"

"Yeah. It's the Saturday after next," she probed carefully.

Jim's expression grew troubled. "Oh. Dang. That's the day the exams are due." She cocked her head. "You know, for my online classes."

Claire could have kicked herself. She'd forgotten the tests. His quarterly exams fell that week, and they could be taken either Friday or Saturday night. But with the play, that only left Saturday. "Of course! I didn't remember that. Well, it's just prom. Maybe we can go next year. They were thinking they could get tickets for us," she explained.

Jim paused. "Wait, why don't you go?" Claire stopped. "They could get a ticket for you and you can all go as a group."

"Well, yeah…but are you okay with that?" He nodded. She tucked her hair back, self conscious. "Are you sure? I don't want you to miss out..."

"That's super sweet Claire, and I appreciate the thought. But you've been running all over for other people for so long. You deserve to hang out with Mary and Darci and do the girlfriend stuff this year." They came to the rock entrance of New Trollmarket, a plain mass of boulders that no one would have ever glanced twice at. "Claire Nuñez, I have a birthday wish now. I want you to go dress shopping with your friends, go to your junior prom, and have fun. That would make me really happy. Okay?"

She smiled slightly, even though the sadness of going to prom without her boyfriend still lingered. He took her hand gently, scrutinizing her face. "Okay?"

"Okay." She embraced him suddenly, arms tight around his shoulders. "You're a sweetheart. You know that?" He laughed in response, breath warm in her ear. "I'm sure things will get better. Give it a few days. I'm sure we'll get those goblins at some point as well. I mean, they're not the most dangerous creatures we've ever faced."

* * *

Claire was not often wrong. She prided herself on being pretty sensible. But when she was wrong, boy, she was _wrong_.

She sidled around the herd of brownies running past, ignoring the fact that they were carrying whoopie cushions. Deftly she grabbed a few permanent markers from their paws, the tiny creatures so irritated they barely noticed. All along the wall were rude markings and angry faces scrawled in ink.

One week and the brownies had descended into infuriated paranoia save for a scant few. And one or two cases of stonescale showed signs of improvement – according to Minor Maladies and Ailments for Trolls, a three week incubation period was common – but several more promised weeks of scratchy, rashy madness. There was no end in sight for the constant work to help the ill and miserable trolls, and Claire was glad to go to work during the day because it meant sunlight and being around people that weren't scratching themselves in obscene places.

There had been one or two small skirmishes of goblins invading, but with patrols in place no one had been harmed. Aaarrrgghh continued carving out small caves for the brownies to live in, Blinky addressed complaints and problems day after day, Toby went to school and helped patrol in the evening, and Barbara was the much-loved source of relief in the mess of stonescale. And of course, unable to rest when others worked, Jim helped with all of it. All the time.

So it was no surprise that Jim was going crazy. Well, maybe not "crazy" so much as "exhausted," but the effects were about the same.

She'd started getting really concerned when Jim seemed to have lost the ability to go for longer than ten minute stretches without dozing off. She'd managed to hold him together for rehearsal the prior day – there was less than a week to showtime, her nausea told her – with a few shots of espresso, but the second they'd returned to New Trollmarket, he'd taken to troll form to attend to other matters. Claire spent her time reading through her lines again and then making sure the brownies had enough to eat. Then she went to find Jim.

She found him four hours later in human form, dead to the world and tucked snugly inside a large cupboard. She'd looked to the nearest trolls, the Mahjong team at the pub, and one had explained, "He was asleep over by the chopped ginger. Figured he might get some peace and quiet in there."

Well, there was method to their madness. A large quantity of ginger had been diced and was ready to be added to a batch of soap. She'd pulled him out and the first thing he said when he opened his eyes was, "Guillermo's going to kill me. I lost the ferrets."

Claire stared at him. "Who's Guillermo?"

"The merciless master of my destiny." Claire slowly patted his hair and Jim passed out again in her arms.

So yeah. A little bit crazy.

" – Never able to get in! Those bigger trolls are hogging the hot springs!" Claire slipped into Blinky's alcove to hear a voice bellowing.

"My goods are all ruined! They're covered in that sticky, disgusting brownie spit! I can't get my shop clean no matter what!" Bagdwella scratched her shoulders. "And they've started spitting on me too!"

NotEnrique had his arms crossed, sitting on Blinky's workbench. "I hate to be that guy, but our supplies are getting low too. We're all too itchy and tired to go foraging." He kicked at his back furiously. "I'm starting to clear up, but it'll be a couple days yet."

"We've got a load coming in two days from Arcadia. Mom organized another litter sweep of the city." Claire spotted Blinky sitting at the work bench, his five good eyes bleary. "Everyone, could you take five? I need to discuss some things with Blinky." The small group nodded and mumbled, squeezing out of the room. Claire waited until they were gone before speaking. "You looked like you needed a few seconds of peace."

Blinky dropped his head into his hands. "There is one consolation in them pestering me, and that is that they're not pestering Master Jim." He rubbed at his patch. "Where is Master Jim, actually? Tobias is helping with the soap I think…"

"I was hoping you knew." Claire hadn't seen him in nearly two days between work and the surprising errands one had to run when one lived on their own – grocery shopping, laundry, and shudder to think, _filing taxes_ – and Mary's delighted rampage through the malls of New Jersey.

Mary and Darci had arrived at her apartment door, armed with envelopes of cash. Their parents had allowed them a decent sum apiece to get dresses and accessories. Shopping with them was crazy and fun, and though Claire's bank account was a little lower than she liked, the dress in her closet was worth it.

"You might check his room. He might be studying. His tests are coming up, and it's Aaarrrgghh's turn to watch the brownies." Blinky smacked himself carefully. "I need to address the trolls again. I thank you Claire for you diversion." She gave him a quick hug before slipping out the door. The chatter of complain rose as she left and Claire darted through the tunnel to Jim's alcove.

The scribble of a pencil made her relax. He'd found time to do schoolwork after all. She peeked into the room and paused. Jim wasn't at the desk. In fact, he wasn't in the room at all.

Carina was sitting at the desk, pencil in hand. She had her chin perched atop one fist and scrawled carefully on loose leaf paper. "Let's see, what's a better word? 'Complejo,' no…'complicado.' Yeah, that's better. Hm." The girl erased a word and continued on.

Claire slowly entered the room, uncertain of what to do. Why was Carina in here? Glancing around, she realized that the room had been neatened slightly – textbooks put back on the shelf, waste basket emptied – and no matter how much she loved Jim, Claire had _never_ seen his clothes hung so precisely.

"Carina?" The changeling girl shot into the air and landed on the back of the chair with impeccable grace, bristling as she spotted Claire. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you…"

"Well don't sneak up on people then!" Carina's bark was chilly as she climbed down. Claire bit back a retort – she was just a kid. "I was, um…looking for Jim. But he's not here. So I'll be going." Carina tried to step past her but Claire put up her hands.

"Carina, have you been doing some of the Spanish assignments for Jim?" She froze, guilt crossing her face. "That's…I mean, it's technically cheating, but…it's kind of sweet." Claire looked around. "And you tidied up? What's going on?"

"The Trollhunter is busy. I want to help out. He has trouble with Spanish," Carina said sharply. "And I don't think anything else is your business!" She stomped past Claire, who was surprised at how much the tone stung. The girl was gone before Claire could say another word.

What had she done to make Carina hate her so much? The girl was so friendly to most people, but she'd marked Claire with a dislike usually reserved for individuals that talked on their cellphones in the climax of a horror movie. She looked around Jim's room, still confused, before leaving and continuing down the tunnel.

* * *

"There has to be a reason they're doing this. Has to be." Toby watched the brownies as they meticulously spat on the crystal beds of the heartstone. He'd gotten tired of trying to herd them away and decided that it really didn't hurt anything. "What do you think Wingman?"

Aaarrrgghh rubbed his arm. "Don't know. Arm still itches – maybe they think spitting helps itch?" He groaned and sat on the ground, the scaling looking awful in the light. "Not helping."

Toby turned to his backpack and drew out a box of the itch balm. "Dictatious is still doing fine, so I think this would be better used on you." He popped open the lid and scooped some out, slathering Aaarrrgghh's arm with it. The troll sighed at the relief. "It can't go on much longer."

The brownies hummed as they worked, spitting and working the substance into the crystal. It made it look grimy and foggy, like a dirty windshield. Toby drew close and measured a sliver with his finger. "No bigger than yesterday. I looked at it." He sat down beside the brownies. They really were cute little guys when they weren't mad, or setting the pub on fire. "Guys, why do you do that? There has to be a reason."

The nearest one blinked at him and chattered. Aaarrrgghh sighed. "Still don't understand. Just getting 'do good things.' Maybe saying more but too hard to understand."

Toby rubbed his chin absently, pulling out a textbook. He had math to do. "Nomura's watching the forge, right?"

"Yes. For three more hours. They like her. She gave one handkerchief. They like presents." Toby absorbed this thoughtfully. He looked into his pencil bag and rummaged around.

"Okay. Let's try to make friends." Toby tapped gently on the shoulder of the nearest brownie. When it turned to look at him, he opened his hand and revealed a Gun Robot Sally eraser. He'd never had the heart to use it and erase the features. "A token of friendship."

The brownie trilled and accepted, showing it happily to the others. They looked Toby over and he froze, wondering if he was about to be showered in spit. They swarmed around his feet as if in thanks before rushing to Aaarrrgghh, climbing up his side, and spitting on his arm with gusto. Aaarrrgghh let them, giving Toby a confused look. "You're sure it's not helping at all?"

"Aaarrrgghh sure. It washing off itch medicine." They finished their task and ran back to the heartstone, humming happily again. "Aaarrrgghh wish he understood. They sound like squirrels."

"Yeah. Too bad we can't speak…Brownese, I guess?" Toby paused. "Wait, they sound like little animals, don't they? Even more than gnomes?"

"Yes. Very much like animals." Aaarrrgghh reopened the box and smeared more relief on over the saliva, ignoring the slime.

"Dude, I just had an idea. I bet Mordred could-"

"Oh, bloody stones!" A pair of trolls had entered and their expressions were thunderous. "We're putting up with enough! You ain't getting the heartstone filthy!" The brownies began to chitter in anger and Toby did some quick math – there were a hundred of them, enough to make a big mess if provoked.

"Come on guys, they're not hurting it. Don't fight." Toby stood up but a little too late – one of the trolls whisked a pair of brownies out of the way of the stone. When a few shouted and shook their little fists, the other troll made to do the same thing. One ducked not quite enough and he accidentally whacked it in the head. The little creature rolled head over feet into the wall and lay still. Toby's heart stopped and he ran to the brownie, turning it over gently. "C'mon little dude, say something!"

The trolls lumbered over, irritation gone. "Crikey, I didn't mean to hurt the little blighter. They're just making a mess everywhere! Is the doc in?" Toby felt a pulse and the brownie stirred, and he let out a breath of relief.

"Wingman. Something wrong with others." Aaarrrgghh drew close, wary. Toby turned and did not like what he saw.

The other brownies were all sitting ramrod straight, whiskers out, eyes gleaming with rage. Their fur stiffened and slowly darkened to jet black as if they'd been thrown in tar, and wide, wicked grins spread across their little faces.

Then they charged and Toby wished he'd taken forge duty.

End of Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Greetings all. I hope those of you that celebrate Thanksgiving had a lovely one. If you don't, I hope you had a lovely Thursday. Enjoy the latest chapter

* * *

Chapter 6

Things Just got Worse – But Maybe Better? Mostly Worse

* * *

"Young Atlas. Young Atlas. Jim!"

Jim's head jerked up. "Sorry. Uh…what were we doing?"

Strickler's mouth was severe but his eyes were sympathetic. "The Odyssey. Penelope's attempt to delay the suitors-"

"Right, undoing the weaving she did every day. And Telemachus meeting his dad." Jim smacked his face bracingly. "Was everyone just a jerk back then? She told them to leave, right?"

"History has marked periods of ugly behavior." Strickler shut the book. "I think this time would be better spent on sleep. You won't retain any information in this state."

"No time for sleep. I've gotta rehearse my lines after this, and clean off the rude gestures the brownies drew on the troll home walls. And then algebra." Jim reached for the book but Strickler slid it away. "C'mon Strickler, my test is in…uh. How many days?"

"Four. And the play is in three." Jim tried to keep the terror off his face. "Jim, you need to rest today so you can study and rehearse tomorrow. I assure you, New Trollmarket will survive a few days with us to look after it." Strickler put a hand on his shoulder. "This curriculum is too stringent. I'm going to see about spreading it out a tad more, maybe an extra semester to ease the strain."

"No! I'm already so far behind Tobes and Claire it isn't even funny." Jim tried for the book again, falling on the table they were sitting at when his reach wasn't long enough, staring at it blankly. "I'm gonna tell my mom on you."

"I think she'd be on my side." Strickler picked up his books and sighed. "Jim, there's no shame in lightening the class load a little."

"This is a normal high school curriculum," Jim protested. "I can handle normal classes!"

"Not if you've got so much else going on! Normal high school students don't spend part of their time fighting stalklings and looking for supply lines for a secret civilization." Strickler erased the board behind him, changeling stone flashing in his ring. "Jim, I respect your desire to finish high school. It's very admirable. So don't sabotage yourself by holding yourself to an impossible standard."

Jim rested his head in his hands. "I just…I want an actual diploma. You know? There's nothing wrong with a GED, but…I always kind of assumed I'd be able to graduate before being the Trollhunter derailed everything." Heat crept up the back of his neck. "Claire's so smart she graduated early. I know I'm nowhere near her level, but I just…I feel kind of stupid when the math Tobes is doing looks like gibberish. And he's talking about stuff in classics and mythology that doesn't make any sense."

Strickler was quiet. He set his books back down. "…I see." He leaned against his desk. "Did you know, Young Atlas, that I did not learn to read until I was nearly a hundred years old?" Jim sat up. His erudite, intelligent teacher, unable to read for so long? Strickler nodded. "The Gumm-Gumms used us as assassins and spies among many enemy forces, namely human ones. I was first sent out in what would later become England. At the time, it was very common for serfs and paupers to be unable to read. It wasn't until my third time out to spy on enemies that I was sent to household to gather secrets for a lord's forces that stood against Gunmar's forces. Keep in mind, Gunmar ravaged the world for quite some time, building his forces. Morganna kept her involvement in the matter very, very quiet. For a long time we changelings did not know where we came from. Most of us believed we were simply ill-formed spawn for our early lives."

Jim, for the first time in days, found himself too interested to doze off. Strickler fiddled with a pen. "In this household I was introduced to books. I was clever enough for the lord to take an interest in me and have me taught the basics of reading and writing. And I appreciated that…enough to let very little information slide back to the Gumm-Gumms." Strickler seemed lost in a memory before he continued, "I had a much slower start than nearly every literate being in the world, but I think I've quite managed to catch up, don't you?"

"Yeah. Definitely." Jim glanced down at his desk. "I wasn't trying to say anything about learning stuff late."

"I know you weren't. I just wanted to impress on you that your intelligence is not something that stops growing after high school, whether you receive an honors diploma or scrape a certificate." Strickler smiled. "We'll see what we can do about the workload. Perhaps we can adjust the summer assignments a bit, get back on track-"

A scream made Jim jump out of his chair, amulet flashing as he donned Daylight. Strickler flashed and switched to troll form, drawing daggers. NotEnrique pelted by, pausing long enough to bellow, "Every troll for hisself!" Jim and Strickler exchanged looks and hurried into the tunnels.

Strickler just managed to grab Jim and haul him back – a wave of furious brownies poured past, a tidal wave of dark cackles. "What in the world happened to them?" Strickler said, watching them pass from the safety of the classroom. Jim shook his head helplessly. Were they really brownies? Sure the little creatures got mischievous, but these creatures caterwauled and hooted, nearly running people over.

Toby staggered by, looking bedraggled. He had glasses drawn on his face and an impressive marker beard. His hair was a wreck and two furry creatures were on his back, tying knots in his bangs. They were like the brownies only black, with wide, sharp, wicked little grins. "So there's a problem. One of the trolls accidentally knocked out a little fella and the others went nuts." The sounds of crashing and shattering echoed down the tunnel. "And they're breaking everything."

Jim shot out into the tunnel, aghast at the sight. The brownies were chewing on the light crystals, hitting them with pebbles, drawing pictures on the walls in permanent marker. "Put that down! I said put it down!" Blinky called, voice echoing. Blinky's alcove wasn't far – he dashed to it to find Blinky engaged in tug-of-war with ten brownies, pulling on one end of a book and they on the other. "Master Jim! What happened? They've turned into boggarts!"

"They're what now!?" Jim grabbed Blinky and pulled with him, managing to free the book from the brownie paws. The creatures fumed and turned to knocking books off the shelves, making a general mess. Blinky flipped it open, skimming hurriedly.

"I was about to report my findings. 'If pushed to extremes, brownies will take on a very negative form, that of the boggart. They are insatiable, angry, and mean spirited, and will not be reasoned with until their anger is quelled.'" Jim scooped up three of the brownies and apologetically dumped them into one of Blinky's storage crates. The others sprinted out, intent on their rampage. "I hoped this was incorrect – I thought if goblins attacking didn't make them boggarts, nothing would."

"One of the trolls knocked one out by accident. I think it was a straw broke the camel's back situation." Jim put a tome over the crate, leaving a crack to make sure the brownies got plenty of air.

Blinky cocked his head. "What good is a camel whose back can be broken by a straw-?"

"Figure of speech." Jim waited for Toby to make it to the room, his friend trying to untangle the knots in his hair. "What are we going to do? I don't want to hurt them!"

Strickler stood in the tunnel, watching the creatures rage and stamp. "We need a container for them, but perhaps Dreamcatcher might allow you to hold them so we can get them into it."

Jim's racing heart slowed a little – it was a sensible thought. One he ought to have thought of. "Right. Okay." He removed the amulet and summoned Moonlight instead, gasping at the sensation of his horns growing. Blinky flinched.

At the approach of a troll, the brownies hissed and charged. Jim drew the bright claws through the threads between his horns and dove toward them, sliding left just before the front runners hit. As if reading his mind the threads spread out, whirling around the group in a large net. They yelped as the threads wound gently but firmly around them, pinning them to the ground. Jim sighed with relief – no one was hurt. They were spitting mad, literally, but unharmed.

Blinky raced back to his alcove and returned dragging a large wooden chest. "I've been sorting more items lately. I do hate to do this, but we can't just let them run rampant!" With difficulty they loaded the wriggling mass into the chest, shutting the lid as the threads vanished. Jim winced at the angry shrieks.

"I'm sorry! But you have to calm down! Your friend is okay! Right Tobes?" He shifted back to human form out of habit.

Bad idea. Very bad idea. The world went black and he fell against the side of the chest. When he came to he was in the infirmary. He stared up at the ceiling. "What happened?"

"You blacked out." His mother's voice was gentle. She came into view, mouth quirked to the side. "You pushed yourself too far going troll and then turning right back. It takes a toll on you." He sat up slowly, realizing that Strickler, Blinky, Toby, and Claire were all gathered around the cot. Aaarrrgghh was a few steps back, peering over their heads. "We were worried."

Jim scratched his head sheepishly. "Sorry. Uh…are the brownies okay?"

"Safe, yes. But they're still angry. We're using a baby gate to keep them in a room until we can sort this out." Blinky placed a book beside him and Jim used the amulet to translate the trollish to english. "And I don't believe anyone but the trolls that offended them can set things right."

Jim read aloud, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "'If a brownie takes the form of a boggart, or a 'hobgoblin' as humans know them, they will wreak havoc and make general nuisances of themselves. Unlike brownies, they have independent use of magic and can use it to create flashes, sour milk, and make no shortage of unpleasant odors. The party that did injury to the collective must make an apology offering, upon which the boggarts will either accept the gift and remain or refuse it and leave.'" Jim shut his eyes. "Great. So about a hundred boggarts might get unleashed on the world."

"Wait, go back. 'Unlike brownies, they have independent use of magic.'" Mom stood close to the cot, and Jim was embarrassed to find it felt nice for her to stroke his shoulder soothingly. "What's that mean? I know brownies have magic, but they can't use it on their own?"

"I noted that as well, Barbara. Unfortunately this book focuses on malevolent creatures, and doesn't bother going into the brownie aspect. It makes reference to another book…one I know I used to have before my study was destroyed." Blinky rubbed his patch. "I'll see to the trolls that upset them. Perhaps we can ease their anger."

"Thanks Blink." Jim's phone rang and he checked the caller ID. "Merlin." He took the call tentatively. "Hi Merlin. How are you?"

"I could be better. I think I've run into some unsavory folks." Jim screamed mentally. "I'm in St. Petersburg, Russia. Lovely architecture, I must say. But a young lady approached me asking for assistance, and some gentlemen are very cross with me. She's talking about robbery or something – my translation spell is a little shaky, I'm not familiar with the language. I think they're hitting her up for protection money or something. She keeps saying 'Bratva' or something."

Jim slowly leaned against his mother, not even caring that everyone was watching. "You seriously ran into the Bratva. That's the Russian mafia. They're organized crime." Toby's brows shot up. "Merlin, they're dangerous. You and she need to get away from them."

"Ah, I thought so. But you see, they seem to have cornered us in an alley. I just wanted to update you – is it acceptable in this instance to harm people?"

Jim stared at nothing. "…You know what, yeah. Self defense. I'd say try not to kill anyone. And keep the magic quiet."

"Perfect. I have a memory spell I can try out anyway. How are – oh, you know what, they have knives now. I'll call you back later." Merlin's unbothered tone went quiet as the call ended and Jim dropped his phone on the cot.

"Honey? You okay?" Mom's shoulder was warm and her smell comforting. Jim closed his eyes.

"I'm just tired. And I have no idea what to do about everything."

Toby coughed. "I had an idea about the brownies, actually. We need someone that can communicate with them, right? Maybe Mordred could talk to them." Jim opened his eyes again. "He understands animals, and Wingman says they sound a lot like squirrels. Maybe he could find out about their magic, and why the heck they're spitting on everything. There has _got_ to be a reason."

"I'm putting a hold on any further assignments. I'll adjust the curriculum as I am able. You are to focus on the review packet I provide for the quarter exam, no new material." Strickler folded his arms across his chest, eyes steely. "I'll brook no argument."

"And we don't have practice tonight, a lot of quarterly exams are happening on the college campus. It'll be tomorrow. You'll remember things a lot better if you rest." Claire blinked those big brown eyes at him.

Jim meant to say he couldn't rest while they all worked so hard. He meant to sit up, shake himself off, and get back into his tasks. But he didn't do those things, because he fell asleep leaning on his mother.

* * *

Barbara hadn't stopped tracing gentle patterns over her son's shoulders. Aaarrrgghh looked intrigued. "He fall asleep. Mother magic?"

"It might as well be. He used to fall asleep like this all the time when he was little. Shoulder rub always knocked him out." Everyone sighed with relief. "So we're going to handle everything for twenty-four hours, right? He's going to need more than a power nap to recover from the run he's been on." Barbara allowed Blinky to approach and take Jim, moving him to a quieter cot on the corner where the light was gentler. She draped a blanket over him as he was set down.

"Agreed. Tobias, call Mordred please. See if he can come help. And be certain to mention that Merlin is out if he seems nervous." Blinky turned to Claire. "You, young lady, should limit your activity in New Trollmarket. You've a play to prepare for. I want you back home by six this evening to rest." She saluted him. He looked at Walter. "Will you watch the brownies to assure their safety after Tobias and Mordred speak to them? Until the blood goblins are captured, we need a warrior to stand by." Barbara liked it when he nodded and gave her and Jim a concerned look. Blinky spotted it. "If Barbara would grace us with her presence for the evening, I will see if Nomura would assist with tending to those with stonescale. I will find someone to watch the boggarts while some sort of apology is prepared." Blinky heaved a sigh. "Master Jim has worked himself too hard. We must intervene before this happens again."

"If he weren't so stubborn," Claire said quietly. Barbara gave her a sympathetic smile.

"We'll make sure he gets some rest. I'll pull out all the stop if needed, including Disappointed Mom Eyes."

Blinky made a confused face. "What does that mean?"

Barbara cleared her throat. "Pretend you just told me something like…I don't know, you skipped school."

"Very well, though I hardly-" Blinky started. Barbara gave him a look of equal parts surprise and hurt, as if he'd slapped her. His voice trailed off and he blinked. "…Potent. Very potent. Reminds me of my own mother."

"Mother magic," Aaarrrgghh said insistently.

Hopefully she wouldn't need to use those. Barbara bent over and gave Jim a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Tagga listened to all of what they said, comfortable in the cat carrier with a blanket and food and water. It taught him a few things, tucked in the back of the room where he wouldn't be hassled by anyone entering.

First – brownies did indeed have magic. He didn't know how they used it, but Fama was right about that much.

Second – the Trollhunter was overworked. He was visible from the car carrier's position, on his side, curled under the blanket. It seemed very strange that such a young creature would have so much to worry about.

Third – he was very well loved. Not just by the humans either. There was a frankly shocking amount of affection between the humans and trolls, and it made him a little sad. Goblins were usually disliked by most creatures, though the Gumm-Gumms had been quick to use and abuse them for their purposes. But in this imperfect, messy, noisy place, he had seen changelings, trolls, humans, gnomes, and goblins trying to work together, in all of their discomfort and crankiness. And they were trying to bring brownies into that fold.

Maybe this would be a good place to live for his goblins. Tagga put his head down, fretting. His goblins were probably in danger. They were young, they had never been used by the Gumm-Gumms. He had defected years and years ago when the rest of his hive were killed. For the first time he'd been able to think his own thoughts. Tagga swore that day that he would use the hive mind to protect goblins, not control them.

But age and peace had made him weak. And now Fama had them. He peered at the Trollhunter through the bars. The boy had captured him when it would have been easy to kill him. Would he and his friends be persuaded to show kindness to Tagga's goblins if they could be freed?

Tagga hoped so. In the meantime he let the boy sleep, thinking of his hive and hoping they were still safe.

* * *

Mordred was nervous and excited when he took the gyre on his own. Well, not really on his own – Draig came with him, as did Nutmeg and her kid, Nibbles. She had separation anxiety. It wasn't too hard to drive, and the speed was exhilarating. He wasn't sure why James couldn't handle it.

When he arrived in New Trollmarket, Mordred climbed out of the gyre, hauling a cardboard box about the size of an aquarium. He helped Nibbles down, Nutmeg and Draig making it on their own. "Come on Nutmeg. Let's go see everyone, hm?" His phone buzzed and he took it out. James had already texted him, making sure he'd arrived okay.

As he replied, Toby came down the stairs looking a little worse for the wear. "Hey Mordred. Thanks for coming. Any trouble getting here?"

"Nope. James is sorry he couldn't come, but a bunch of hellheetis have been breeding out in Arcadia. He's helping the Creepslayerz." Mordred looked around hopefully. "Where's Jim? I've got a birthday present for him. Well, it's not technically _for_ him, but it might help out with the brownie homes."

"Jim is out of commission. Dr. Lake's got him in the infirmary sleeping. He'll probably be up later." Mordred fought to keep the disappointment off his face. Toby was really nice too. And, he reasoned, Jim had tons of work to do all the time. "I'm sure he'll love it though. So…ready to meet our guests?"

Nibbles bleated and Draig barked. If Toby thought it weird that he'd brought the goats, he didn't show it. "Sure. I hope I can understand them." He followed Toby into the tunnels, vaguely remembering some of them. He had seen trolls before, so it wasn't so surprising when they passed, but Nutmeg butted against his side nervously. "Don't worry Nutmeg, it's okay." Draig carried Nibbles on his furry back, wagging his tail.

It seemed to take a while, but at last they reached the place that Toby called the Hero's Forge. Mordred privately thought it looked like a really big, nice hole, but he would never want to say that out loud. "We're almost done carving out a section for homes for them, but right now this is the most spacious place we have available." Toby held out an arm. "Mordred, the brownies. Brownies, Mordred."

Mordred felt hundred of little eyes peer out from blankets and stones to examine him. As the creatures came into view he smiled. "Aw. They're cute! Hello there!" He shifted his voice a little, thinking of small animals and their chirrups and chatter. "Can you understand me?"

All of their ears pricked. One bounded forward and sat at his feet, staring up at him. "Hello! Your words are clear! We are the brownies. I will serve as speaker."

Mordred knelt so the little creature didn't have to crane its neck. It had a flutey chitter for a voice. "Hi. I can understand you too. My friend asked me to come so we could figure out some things. Are you all okay?"

The brownie's whiskers bristled. "I should say not! There are blood goblins trying to eat us, the trolls are loud and stompy and rude, and everyone gets angry when we share our magic! The round boy is nice and is trying, but so many of the trolls are very discourteous!" It rubbed its face with its tiny paws. "They act like we are dirty and mean, but we are trying to be generous guests!"

Mordred nodded slowly. "Are you talking about the spit? You've been spitting on lots of things."

"Of course! That's how we work our magic!" The brownie shook its head. "You'd think they didn't know how brownie magic works or something!"

"Oh, but they don't. I think that's the problem." Mordred resisted the urge to pat the creature's head when its ears flared out in surprise. "You are some of the only brownies in the world. None of the trolls or humans have met with brownies in an incredibly long time, if ever! What is the spit supposed to do?"

The speaker ran back to the group of brownies and Mordred waited. Exclamations of understanding rose up and he hoped that was a good thing. He glanced at Toby, who made a fist and put a thumb up. Mordred wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean – encouragement he thought – but he smiled and turned back to the brownies when the speaker returned. "What a misunderstanding!" it said. "No wonder everyone is in such a mood! We brownies spit because it's how we store our magic, but we can't activate it whenever we want. We have to wait until the full moon and work together." The brownie gestured to the crystal lining the walls. "We couldn't understand them very well, so we assume they didn't want us to use magic. But they just thought we were making a mess. Come the full moon, all our helpful magic will happen and they'll see all the good deeds we were trying to do!"

Mordred beamed. "I see! Because brownie magic is white magic, and the full moon draws the Astral Plane closer to us."

"And makes it easier to use! Yes! I wish they'd brought you sooner young one." The brownie patted his hand. "We will gather around the heartstone and focus together. It will take all night to bring the magic to fruition. And it won't be as strong…not with our fellows being boggarts."

Mordred relayed the information to Toby, whose face lifted with relief. "I knew there was a reason behind all this! This is great news. Wait until I tell…" he faded. "Isn't tonight the full moon?"

Frowning, Mordred translated the response. The brownies stirred and chattered, and in a great herd they loped toward the tunnel opening. Toby and Mordred moved aside, watching them stream through. Toby shrugged and they followed the mass. "What's the magic supposed to do?" Toby asked, waiting for Mordred to translate.

"Many things!" The brownies didn't say anything else. Mordred slowed his pace a little so Toby could keep up – the young man was shorter than he. They didn't stop until they reached the heartstone chamber. This was the only room in New Trollmarket that he could truly tolerate, other than the kitchen in the pub. It had a warm glow, a light, that radiated out of the heartstone and eased the darkness all around him. It was a far cry from the glory of the sun, but Mordred tried not to be picky.

The brownies gathered around the heartstone, clearing their throats and linking paws. Draig sniffed the air and sat down, watching intently. Mordred set the box containing the gift down, picking up Nibbles instead. "So…I guess Strickler will stand guard for them," Toby said. "Hopefully those blood goblins won't make a move tonight."

Mordred didn't get a chance to reply – the brownies tilted their heads back and began to sing. It was an unfamiliar tune, more of an endless hum than a true melody. They trilled in waves, first one section and then another, allowing the others to breathe while the majority carried. It was a sweet sound, unending and rolling like the sea. Nutmeg pricked her ears and Draig cocked his head. "So this is going to go on all night?" Toby asked. Mordred nodded. "Well, I won't pretend I'm not curious." Toby settled in and pulled a candy bar out of his pocket. "Want part of a Nougat Nummy? They're vegetarian friendly."

* * *

The goblins missed Tagga. They were aware of this in the back of their heads, but the intense weight of Fama's mind ruling theirs made thinking hard, harder than wading through setting cement. Tagga's hive mind had always been there, but it had been gentle. Guiding, dissuading from danger or conflict. Fama's was hungry, fierce, and consuming.

One particularly brave goblin shook himself and approached. Fama sat on a box in the dark, quiet room, gnawing on a bone from a recent kill. The room smelled of cloth and paint, and they'd spent a few hours exploring before making their nest in the darkest corner of the ceiling. "Leader?" he asked.

Fama glanced at him, still gnawing, tongue seeking the marrow. Taking this as permission to continue, the goblin continued, "This place have humans. Trollhunter scent here. Why we stay? Brownies are protected too well in market. What we do now?"

Fama took his time answering. "As long as brownies in market, no way to get them. Trollhunter and others will protect. Many goblins can't take on Trollhunter in market. But many goblins might be able to take on Trollhunter outside of market. He takes human form when around other humans. He will be weaker."

The goblin's stomach flipped. Take on that terrifying creature, the mixed-up monster? "Why attack him?"

"Because goblins will be respected if we can handle the Trollhunter. And we have a chance if he isn't expecting us. The humans come into this room for false faces and clothes – they put on shows and use the things in here for it." Fama finished with the bone and the goblin realized he'd gnawed it down to a sharp point. "He will try to keep battle quiet. We have advantage in tiny, dark, quiet place."

"…Goblins can't kill Trollhunter. He took Tagga away. Too strong. Why we not leave, try to get Tagga back?" This was the wrong answer – Fama bristled and climbed down from the crate. The other backed away hastily, fear making him pant.

"We get Trollhunter, panic in market. Brownies will be easy pickings. All goblins should have brownie magic…make us strong." Fama lifted one hand and the faintest, darkest coils of magic burned at his fingertips. "Ever eaten human, little one? It is almost as good as brownie. Fear makes them tender."

The goblin froze – Fama's mind willed him to. The hive leader reached out and touched the helpless goblin's face, fingers sizzling where he touched the green skin. It burned and the goblin felt the horrified gazes of his fellows, trembling behind their crates and boxes. Fama pulled his fingers away. "No room for weak goblins. Only strong ones. Remember that."

The burned goblin dove for the nearest box, one marked, "Beauty and the Beast villager costumes," and hid inside, nursing the injury. If he dared to think it – and he didn't, knowing Fama's control was incorrigible – maybe the mixed-monster was preferable to a blood goblin.

He hoped Tagga was all right. But even if he was, the hive mind wouldn't let them go. Such was the lot of goblins.

* * *

NotEnrique paced in front of the baby gate, ignoring the jeers from within. The boggarts had not, of course, been locked in the chest longer than necessary. After the Trollhunter passed out, Strickler and Blinky had taken him to the infirmary and returned to deal with the rogue brownies. It was little more than a pen – a spare alcove, half-finished – blocked with a tall baby gate that had been purchased for Milagro.

The boggarts shook the bars like inmates, baring their teeth at him. NotEntrique scowled. "Look, they'll let you out soon as they can help you get back to your normal selves. Take it from me, you lot have been treated pretty well all things considered!" He scratched dolefully at his back. It was starting to show signs of clearing, but it still itched. "At least you blokes don't have to worry about this."

One of the boggarts cocked his head and muttered to the others, a cackle rising from the group. "What's so funny?" NotEnrique snapped. "We're trying to help out around here and you lot make trouble." Something warm and wet hit his arm and he jumped back, expecting it to be spit again.

But no. The little boggart had climbed the bars enough to urinate on NotEnrique. It pointed and laughed wickedly. NotEnrique stared at the puddle of pee and lost it. He snarled and rammed the gate, jostling it enough that the boggart tumbled, yelping as it landed. "You rotten little tosser!"

Then the gate fell over, knocked loose by his motion. NotEnrique froze, the boggarts gathering to look at the fallen gate as if they couldn't believe their luck. "Oh. Fudge knuckle."

End of Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Good evening everyone. I hope this chapter finds you well as we ready for another work week, and as we enter a new Christmas season.

* * *

Chapter 7

Director's Cut

* * *

Jim woke to the sound of 'Habanera' from Carmen. He knew that was what it was because he'd heard it in Nomura's alcove before.

It played very softly, Tagga humming along quietly. Jim sat up, groggy and confused. He was in the infirmary still? Why was he-?

He'd fallen asleep. And judging by the fact that he didn't feel like his eyes were about to fall out of his head, he'd been asleep for a while. He turned sharply to see Nomura in human form in the corner, restocking some of the herb containers. "Get a good nap in, Sleeping Beauty?" she asked.

"How long have I been out?" He stood with an effort.

"I want to say eighteen hours. It's ten in the morning. We didn't want to risk moving you too far and waking you up." Jim's jaw dropped in horror. "Relax. New Trollmarket hasn't collapsed. In fact, I think you'll be pleased at certain developments. Well, most of them." She turned toward him and put a granola bar in his hand. "Eat that. And comb your hair, it looks like a guinea pig had a fight with a raccoon."

Jim took off, hurrying into the tunnel. He nearly ran into Aaarrrgghh, who put up an arm to keep him from falling. "Aaarrrgghh! What's happened? Is everyone doing okay? What about the brownies?"

Aaarrrgghh patted his head. "Brownies much more popular now. Need to find boggarts, but rest of brownies are very happy. Their magic is very helpful."

Jim blinked several times. "Huh?" The troll held up his arm and Jim looked it over, bewildered. It was just Aaarrrgghh's arm, nothing strange about it. "Wait, where's the stonescale? Did you clear up? And what do you mean 'find' the boggarts!?"

"Brownie magic activates on night of full moon. Brownies put magic in spit. Come, see heartstone. You will like that." Aaarrrgghh turned and Jim followed, gnawing on the granola bar Nomura had given him, at a loss for words.

He should have stayed awake, he should have stayed in troll form if he had to. The others had to cover for him because he'd let himself get pulled in too many directions. And now something important had happened, and if they'd needed him he would have been out of commission. Guilt churned in his stomach as they entered the heartstone chamber, but shock drained it away.

The heartstone was no longer a big chunk in the middle of the room. Instead it had blossomed, growing into a greater mass until it reached the ceiling of the chamber, two stories up. From there it had started to spread outward, as if it meant to find the walls and grow along them until the entire room was coated in crystal. The warmth it let off was radiant, stronger than it had been before. It was a far cry from covering the room, but it was easily three times the size it had been yesterday. It was like a great star overhead, glowing warmly.

Aaarrrgghh nudged his jaw. "Catch flies that way." Jim rallied, turning to the troll. "Brownies were spitting because that how they put magic in things. When moon is full, they can use very big magic together. That why they spitting on stonescale and heartstone. And they make more crystal for food – they spit on pieces left to make those grow too."

Jim leaned on Aaarrrgghh, gazing at the crystal. "Tobes was right all along. They really did have a reason." He sighed. Relief flooded through him – there was a proven reason for their actions. No one would want them to leave now.. "So how are the trolls reacting?"

"They're embarrassed, thrilled, and very much interested in how to properly apologize." Toby looked tired but cheerful as he came through another tunnel. Mordred was behind him, leading Nutmeg and Nibbles. Jim waved as they approached. "A bunch of them feel really bad about assuming the worst off the bat. Though they're in their better minds now that they aren't itching so much. Mordred's been helping out around here."

The young man held a large cardboard box, and upon seeing Jim he brightened. "Hi Jim. Happy birthday! Or early birthday, rather." He set the box down. "I remembered you said you didn't really want anything except for the brownies to get settled, so I made this. There's…nowhere near enough room for all of them, but it's a start." He opened the top and slid out the object.

It was a wooden house, a bit like the birdhouses they'd seen in the house in Arcadia. It was shaped like an oblong sphere, sanded and lacquered to a fine shine and smoothness. Within the opening Jim could see an indentation in the floor where blankets and little cushions could go, and more holes for easy entry and exit for the little creatures. It was painted in warm, bright colors, a safe little sanctuary. It smelled clean, of sycamore.

Jim couldn't help but smile. "That's really nice Mordred. Thank you. I think it would make a great home for a group of brownies."

Toby patted it. "I was saying that we should use this as a model. Like, carve this kind of thing into some of the walls, or even the crystal. We could honeycomb it so they can all live together, and it wouldn't take much room. Just a tall wall." Mordred practically glowed with pleasure.

"That's a good idea. They're great climbers…" Jim trailed off. "I can't believe this. Look at the heartstone. And the stonescale?"

"Well, most of it's gone. A few people haven't cleared up, but we think it's because the brownies that turned into boggarts weren't here and their magic didn't activate." Toby twirled his thumbs uneasily. "And…they escaped."

The wonder broke into anxiety. "What!?"

"Strickler and Barbara looking in city now. Claire resting at home, coming by later to get Jim." Aaarrrgghh patted Mordred's back. "Mordred been helpful. Brownies like him very much."

Jim forced his panic down. Freaking out would do nothing, and his friends seemed calm enough. "Would the brownies know where the boggarts went? Aaarrrgghh, can you catch their scent? There are still blood goblins looking for the brownies!"

"Boggarts not as weak as brownies. Mean, sharp, fast. I will try to find scent at night if others don't see them. Boggarts will not reveal themselves – all troll beings know better. Pass for squirrels if no one know better." Aaarrrgghh leveled a serious look at Jim. "You study. Can look when Strickler and Barbara come back before going to rehearsal."

Jim sputtered. "But they're out there! In the world!"

"Yes. Just like many, many goblins and trolls. No way to find them if they don't want to be found. Wingman going soon with Mordred, you focus on other things right now."

Toby patted Jim's back. "Yeah dude, Mordred said maybe he could talk to the boggarts when we find them. But that's Team Brownie biz. You are Team Study-So-You-Don't-Fail-and-Practice-For-Play." Jim turned to him. "But you might wanna comb your hair first."

"'Team Brownie,'" Jim repeated.

"Yep. Me, Mordred, and Wingman." Mordred waved as Toby spoke. "Go clean up and hide in your alcove for a bit. Blinky's resting too." Toby lifted a finger. "Or else we're gonna kick you out of Trollmarket entirely. If you think I won't call your mom and have her remove you from the premises, you give me too much credit."

Jim sighed. "…You're serious." Toby nodded. "Okay. I mean, you've handled it this far. And I can't ruin this play. I can't." He paused and took out his phone. "Anyone heard from Merlin?"

Toby shook his head. "Not since yesterday. I tried calling a few times, but I just got a message." He dialed the number and Merlin's voice came through on speaker.

"If this is the Trollhunter and company calling, I assure you I'm fine. This is an interesting situation and I can't come to the phone." Mordred stared at the device in concern. "I found a hidden underground building where I believe there's some drug smuggling going on. I don't know what that is exactly, but it sounds serious. I'll call you in a few days."

"Think he's gonna have this insane, glamorous life of busting drug kingpins and seducing gorgeous women on the side? Like some old, magical James Bond or whatever." Toby shrugged. "Anyway. Go rehearse and study. We've got this handled."

Jim hesitated, but at last he obeyed, feeling rumpled and confused and relieved.

* * *

Claire walked into a completely new New Trollmarket.

She had gone home the previous night, eaten dinner, and acted out all of her scenes. Then she'd indulged herself by watching Papa Skull music videos before getting a decent night's sleep. And oh, it had been glorious.

Toby had texted her of course, letting her know what had happened. But she passed dozens of trolls that had just the previous day been covered in rashes, and almost all of them were clear and clean and cheerful. Bagdwella was sprightly, the brownies springing proudly under the thankful gazes. "Those little buggers are odd, but they were trying to help," one troll said. "Just goes to show, you can't judge until you've got the full story."

"They're all right by me! I haven't felt this good in weeks." Claire smiled when she heard things like this. Whiny they could be, but she was glad when the trolls were happy. They just took a while to come around to things. Rested and hopeful, it was easy to be forgiving of the world.

"Coming by your alcove in a minute. Ready to go?" Her text was answered almost immediately and Claire grinned at the message. "Definitely, I can blink without falling asleep."

She rounded the corner and nearly walked into Carina, who was scrubbing at the wall. The changeling jumped and glared. Claire spotted the brownies' rude gestures on the wall, scrawled in marker, and smelled permanent ink in the foamy water of the bucket beside her. "Hi Carina."

"Hello Claire." Carina turned back to the wall and continued scrubbing. Her tone was cool as always, and Claire watched her for a moment. She'd said nothing since the other day and offered no explanation for being in Jim's alcove. And the mulish glare dimmed Claire's cheer considerably. She was used to being liked, not detested. "Did you need something?" the girl continued.

Her tone was so cold that Claire blurted out, "Did I do something to offend you?" Claire didn't mean to say it. But the dislike on Carina's face was so obvious, and so different from how she treated everyone else. The girl blinked. "I'm sorry if I did. But I have no idea why you hate me so much."

Carina flushed. She looked around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "I…I don't hate you."

"Well, you give me dirty looks. I'm sorry to call you out, but if I hurt your feelings or something I'd really like to know." When Carina didn't speak, Claire stepped around her. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Thank you for cleaning the walls."

She'd taken two steps when she heard, "It's just…you're dating the Trollhunter." Claire turned around, surprised to see Carina looking sullenly embarrassed.

"Is that a bad thing? I know Kanjigar had a son, so I assumed the Trollhunter is allowed to date people." Blinky had never brought up any kind of rule regarding the Trollhunter's dating life, and if there _was_ one, Claire was ready to start swinging. But Carina raised her eyes and Claire's anger ebbed at the humiliated confusion there.

"No, I mean…I don't like that you're dating Jim." She rubbed her elbow sheepishly. "Jim specifically."

Carina cleaning up, helping with the homework. The funny, wide-eyed stare. Claire smacked herself in the forehead as realization hit like a thunderbolt. " _Oh_! You have a crush on-!"

"Don't _say_ it!" Carina looked baleful. "I'd just die if he found out!" The irritation, the glares of jealousy. How could she not have guessed earlier? Her anger vanished, Carina finally looking at her unhappily. "I know you guys are together, and he's too old for me. But I still like him."

Claire peeked around the corners of the tunnel to make sure they were alone. "Is that why you've been doing the Spanish homework? And neatening up his room?" Carina nodded.

"I wanted to help out. And I know he's really busy. He's always so nice, even when he's tired." Carina hid her face behind the cloth she'd been using to clean the wall. "And he smells nice and he's handsome," she muttered into it. Claire forced herself not to giggle.

"I'm inclined to agree. So that's why you've been angry around me? You're jealous?" Carina raised her eyes over the cloth, abashed. Claire leaned on the wall beside her. "You know, when I was twelve, I had this gigantic crush on one of my dad's younger work friends. He was like eighteen, but he was super friendly and cute. And he was a big fan of a band I love, Papa Skull, and he brought a t-shirt back for me from a concert. I was so jealous of his girlfriend." Carina lowered the cloth, as if surprised at Claire's reaction. "Nothing ever came of it, obviously. But it was okay that I had a crush on him. It's a part of growing up."

"You're not mad?" Carina asked.

"No. If anyone can understand why you like him, it's me. But it's good you know that it _is_ a crush." Carina glanced at the floor. "Trust me, you'll find someone someday that makes you feel just like he does. Only they'll be in the right place and the right time for you."

"…I guess. Maybe if there are more changelings that come here." Carina's voice was quiet. Claire considered the changeling children and her mirth eased. The girl was the oldest changeling – was it any wonder she'd looked outside her group for someone romantically interesting? The others were just children, and she was growing up into a young lady. "It's just…he was so kind when you all found us. You were all nice, but he said I was brave for looking after Milagro. And that my mom would have been proud. Everyone just kind of assumed I'd take care of my baby brother. And I wanted to, of course. It felt nice for someone to realize it was hard to look after him. Changelings always have to be tough, but he…he didn't expect that." Claire knew why; Jim would know, better than anyone, what it was like to be expected to shoulder so much so young. The girl scuffed her foot against the ground. "Promise you won't tell him?"

"I won't say a word Carina." Claire stood straight. "You know, if you ever need to talk to someone a little older about girl stuff, you can always come to me. Right?"

Carina smiled a little. "Thanks Claire. You're…nice. But I'm still jealous."

Claire patted her shoulder. "That is perfectly okay."

* * *

"You look so much better." Jim held the door open as Claire said this, the sound of the actors in the theatre distant. "I need to hear you say it, 'I will not work myself so hard that I pass out ever again.' Say it."

Jim grinned. He hadn't fallen asleep on the ride over – it felt good to be aware again. "What'll happen if I say it?"

"Aside from you living a longer, healthier life? I might be persuaded to kiss you." She turned around as he closed the door behind them, tucking her hands behind her back coquettishly. "Sound fair?"

"'I will not work myself so hard that I pass out ever again, unless lives are at stake.'" She rolled her eyes but apparently found that suitable, as she drew close and pecked him on the mouth. Jim hugged her close with one arm, walking beside her. "You guys did great. I feel a lot better."

"All I did was rehearse. But that's what a team is for. Taking turns when things come up." She smoothed her hair back, sighing. "So your mom and Strickler didn't find the boggarts?"

"Nope. Tobes and Mordred have been looking for a couple hours now. I'll help look for a little while if we don't hear anything." Jim settled his "costume" in a bag in one of the seats by Claire's purse. It was really stuffed with socks and a couple of pots and pans for the occasional metal clang. "Strickler thinks they'll return to the other brownies if they're given enough time. Aaarrrgghh's on the trail now, but if it leads into the city-"

Claire nudged him gently; the actors were closer now. Jim took the hint and felt her phone buzzing against his hip. She took it out and frowned. "Kim? Hi, we just walked in. Where are you?"

Jim heard the hushed whisper through the phone and froze. "Claire. I'm in the costume closet. Th-there are _things_ in here. Like, talking things with sharp teeth." Claire's eyes rose to meet his, horror reflected in them. "I don't know what they are…they're too big for rats. Claire, they're all over! Can-can you come help me? Please, I'm scared to make noise-!"

Ducking into the back of the stage, Jim dashed around to find the closet, Claire a breath behind him. He shifted to troll form as soon as he was in the back hall and opened the door. He caught sight of Kim, tucked into the corner with her phone, before something dark swept toward his face.

If he was tired like he'd been yesterday, he wouldn't have moved in time. A sharp sliver of bone would have ended up in his eye. But because he wasn't as tired, because he was expecting an attack, he lifted an arm to intercept the blow and swung, throwing the assailant back.

Fama shrieked in anger as he fell into cardboard boxes. Kim whimpered from the corner, eyes huge behind her glasses. She'd seen the goblins. She'd _seen_ them. Jim didn't hesitate – if it came down to a secret or the safety of a person, secrecy was out the window – leaping forward and swinging for the blood goblin. Fama hissed and leaped again, purple flames glowing on his fingertips as he lost hold of the sharpened bone. There was no room in the closet, small and dark, and the feeling of something jumping onto his back made him ram against the wall. The creature croaked, plopping to the ground, and the sound of a purse smacking another goblin across the room made him wince; Claire's purse weighed a ton. The click of her staff extending was muted against the carpet.

The green goblins cowered, fleeing into a hole in the ceiling that had obviously been gnawed over a few days. The blood goblins jumped at him, tiny claws skittering against his stone skin, but Fama's flaming hands burned like acid. Jim hurled him back and Fama hit the wall again, yelping this time. Nursing his leg, the goblin glared at him in hatred and scuttled to the ceiling, fleeing. The other goblins followed suit and Jim panted as they went.

"Are you okay?" he managed, looking first to Claire and then to Kim. Claire was breathing hard, staff still extended. Kim stared at him, and Jim bit his lip. Was there any way to sweep this under the rug?

"…It's not a costume. Oh my gosh." She pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Hey Kim?" One of the actors poked his head into the room. "We're ready to start, want us to go ahead while you – whoa, what happened in here?" He gestured to the fallen boxes. Jim's heart stopped – if she said anything –

"Mouse. Really…really big mouse. Jim and Claire chased it off." Kim slowly stood, knees shaking. "It scared the dickens out of me. Yeah, go ahead and start. We'll be out soon."

"Okay, if you're sure. Jim, you want to run through with the costume today?" He nodded faintly and the man left, leaving the doorway a bright patch in the room.

Claire had stuffed her staff into her purse, and now she stepped toward Kim with her hands knitted together, as if to assure her she had no weapon ready. She was quivering. "…Why didn't you say anything?"

Kim sucked in a breath and sighed. She looked at Jim and said, "You don't remember me. When I heard your voice, I wondered. But after that, I'm sure." Her fingers dragged through her wild hair. "You saved me last November. From a mugger."

Jim blinked. Saved her? The only person he remembered helping in the city was…

"Wait. The girl with the tablet?"

"Yeah. You jumped off a roof. You were covered up in a sweater and glasses and everything, but I heard your voice." Kim scratched her head furiously. "I'm so stupid. That's not a costume at all, is it? Such weird things have been happening in Hoboken lately! I thought maybe you just covered yourself up and were running around as a vigilante or something! But…"

Claire looked bewildered. "You…are much calmer than I would have expected."

"Well, I did take some of my panic attack medication earlier. Been freaking out the past few days for the show. Whenever that wears off I'll probably run around screaming." Kim raised her hand to her mouth, fingers shaking. "So…can you…I mean, how does this work?"

Jim and Claire exchanged a look. Then Jim removed the amulet and the relief of the air on his skin returned. Kim's eyes bugged out but she shut them. "Okay. Wow."

"Kim, I hate to ask this, but-"

The girl waved a hand, cutting Claire off. "Yeah yeah, don't tell anyone. Sworn to secrecy. Just…promise me you'll explain this craziness, okay? And what was with those monster things?"

"Goblins. They smell fear," Jim added. Kim bit back a hysterical giggle.

"Oh, well, I'm probably smelling pretty strong right now! I need to sit down." She did so, hair more flyaway than ever. Jim sat in front of her, Claire beside him. "I can't believe this. What are you? And if you say half-demon or something, I'm calling my pastor. No matter how nice you are."

Jim couldn't help but laugh. "We'll give you the short version."

* * *

Fama licked his leg moodily, trying to cool the massive bruise. The green goblins were muttering to each other, staring in his direction. His blood kin were fuming.

"Fama say we can kill Trollhunter! Not even close to strong enough! Fama stupid, bad leader!" He replied by tossing a flaming, shadowy lump in their direction, making them scatter. "Brownie magic bad with goblins, don't know how to use!"

"Learning. Shut up." Fama grunted – they were hiding in the ceiling of the dormitory building, and it was dusty up there – and stretched his leg. The television in the room below them was loud, and it kept their chatter safe. "Need new plan. If all goblins have brownie magic-"

"Still not strong enough!" The speaking blood goblin glared at him. "Goblins are small and sneaky, not good for fighting lots! If have more goblins we could have chance!"

Fama's blood boiled. He stood up and glared at the speaker, pushing his hive mind down on it with the weight of thunder. The goblin twitched and squirmed, and Fama didn't relinquish the pressure. Stupid little goblin to question the leader of the hive.

He finally let go and the goblin whimpered, fleeing to curl up in a huddle mass yards away. The other goblins lowered their heads deferentially and Fama grinned. "We will find way to get to brownies. You will all have magic. And we will defeat Trollhunter and others." And goblins would be respected as a troll race at long last.

"…peculiar, as the only thievery was the supply of rock candy."

Fama sat up, ears pricked. The television in the room below went on and he listened more intently. It was some local news channel, reporting nonsensical stories. "'Sweet Thing Candy Shoppe' has not reported any money stolen, nor any confectioner's equipment, but their supply of sugar crystal, aka 'rock candy,' was wiped out last night. There were no signs of forced entry, leaving authorities baffled as to how fifty pounds of sugar candy was stolen or eaten in one sitting."

Fama smiled. Perhaps reaching brownies would be easier than he thought.

* * *

"You really think this will work? How are we even going to get the little fellows back here?" Blinky shook his head at the question.

"That is a work in progress. Finding out where they are is first on our list. But we must have a gift ready for them, and I think this will prove an excellent one." The brownies watching cheered in agreement. "I cannot begin to apologize enough for how difficult this has all been. Your generosity in this time is truly appreciated." He knelt to see the work from the brownie viewpoint. "It looks marvelous so far! You're all doing splendidly."

It felt so nice to be able to praise the trolls and brownies in the same breath. They were hard workers when invested in a project, and this one was something they were putting personal gratitude into. And the brownies were only too happy to help with the new understanding. Jevin was shining one side, smoothing it as he went. Brownies darted back and forth, cleaning up the flecks of crystal as the trolls carved and worked.

His phone rang and Blinky answered it with a glance. "Hello? James?"

"Hey Blinky. How are you guys? Is Mordred doing all right?" The man sounded out of breath. "Sorry, we've had two gruesomes running around today. Steve accidentally used a bag of sugar instead of flour – to be fair the bags looked the same, branding changed – and that makes them turn bright pink and move ten times faster."

"We're doing quite well, thank you. Are you all right?" James muttered something to the effect of "yes" and Blinky waited for him to catch his breath. "Anyway. I was calling about Jim's birthday. Did you find the parts you needed?"

"All but the exhaust and seat. I haven't found any in decent condition in the area." Blinky looked around, knowing that Jim wasn't in the market but unwilling to take risks. "He was so fond of the Vespa before. I hope we have them all by his birthing day."

"You're in luck, I'm heading into town. I can get those parts at the shop." James was quiet for a moment. "Unless you think that's cheating. I'm not trying to piggyback on your idea…"

"Not at all. We all have different resources and abilities. And I think it would please him very much to know we worked together with this." Blinky gave the trolls three thumbs-up as they finished one portion of the crystal. "I believe Barbara and Strickler have found a suitable helmet. Hopefully we can deal with the boggarts by his birthing day so the children can have a little fun after his exams are complete."

"Thanks Blinky. You're a great guy. Just…y'know, letting me be a part of this. I wouldn't have blamed you if you got all possessive or jealous." James sighed. "Sorry. I just miss him. Mordred's great, but I want to be there for both my boys."

"I understand. Perhaps you can come see the play this Friday, support him and Claire? Master Jim is quite nervous about it." And Blinky could not attend. He left this unsaid, but he knew James would understand.

"Sounds awesome, I'll be there. Think Aaarrrgghh would be willing to spot me for the evening? Just in case something happens in Arcadia."

"He'd be delighted I'm sure." Blinky heard footsteps and added, "I think they're back. I'll call you later."

"Thanks Blink. Take care." He put the phone away just as Claire and Jim descended into the tunnel. Blinky turned and grinned at the sight.

"Ah, perfect timing! What do you think of our fine artisans?" He gestured to the wall proudly.

"Wow! It looks so pretty!" Claire ran her hands over the surface. "And it's warm…I'm sure the boggarts will accept this as an apology, if we can just get them back here." She looked tired from rehearsal, and Jim as well. "We need to talk about something that happened."

Jim wrapped an arm around her, thumb stroking her shoulder soothingly. "The blood goblins attacked while we were at rehearsal. And the director of the show…knows about trolls now."

Blinky's mouth opened slightly, alarmed but not overtly so. "Am I to take it she found out due to their attack? Was anyone hurt? Who else saw?"

"Just her. Blood goblins were in a closet, and when they figured out they couldn't beat us, they fled. I couldn't find them anywhere in the building, and of course I couldn't take troll form outdoors during the day." The young man lifted his head a little. "She's agreed to keep the secret. Turns out I helped her once." Jim exchanged a glance with Claire. "Night's fallen. And the boggarts and blood goblins are all loose in the city. I think if he's up to it, Aaarrrgghh needs to take to the city to find their scents, narrow down where they might be. His nose is better than mine. And I'm…no good to anyone dead on my feet. I'm not letting myself get into the condition I was in before."

Blinky nodded slowly. His worry was laced with pride. "You are quite right. I think I might have a solution for Aaarrrgghh to search without being noticed." He gave Claire a conspiratorial glance. "Guess who found the glamor mask in the closet with the other magical items?"

End of Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Greetings all. I hope this chapter finds you in great spirits for the holidays if you celebrate any. I'd like to wish you a Merry Christmas, and a lovely rest of your week.

* * *

Chapter 8

Showdown of the Tiny

* * *

If one had been watching the streets of Hoboken, they would have seen a young man wandering the streets. He had black hair and blue eyes, and a permanently pleasant expression. He was also drowning in a very large sweater with a hood. He avoided large groups of people and paused every so often to sniff the air.

Aaarrrgghh felt funny with the mask on his face and the smell of the wood disrupting him. But it was faint enough that he could detect other odors. The glamor mask had been set to Jim's appearance, and it was suitable enough. But it was very strange to look down and see such thin arms and legs, such small hands. It made him uncomfortable; his thumb could crush these tiny hands. How did they hold anything bigger than a pen?

The city was full of exciting smells. Sandwiches and perfumes and pastries and exhaust. He continued down the sidewalk, stopping frequently to follow an interesting scent.

NotEnrique poked his head slightly out of the hood, concealing himself as he took in the sights. "Cor, what I wouldn't give to run loose in this burg. Getting anything, big guy?"

"Little bit. Still searching." Aaarrrgghh would not have minded going alone, but NotEnrique _was_ the one to find the glamor mask. And he felt rather bad for the small changeling; he was too tiny to freely wander the forest without fearing predators or stalklings. It was a reasonable thing, wanting to get out of the market.

NotEnrique's eyes glistened under the lights and he pulled himself more snugly into the huge hoodie. "So. Just between you and me, I heard something on the internet that might have to do with these blokes. But if we go there, I kinda want to pick up some stuff. I got cash." He waved a tiny hand with crumpled bills in front of Aaarrrgghh, who took it bemusedly. "See, there's a candy shop that got robbed earlier. And it sounds like all the rock candy was cleared out. Either fifty five-year-olds somehow teleported in, or the boggarts stopped for a snack."

Aaarrrgghh nodded. "Make sense. They like rock candy. But makes them faster, meaner."

"Yeah, but at least you can get a good whiff of 'em. Oh, and I need to go to this shop on Friday. If you don't mind." NotEnrique passed him a scribbled store name and then rode in silence for a while, Aaarrrgghh glancing at him. "I kinda…wanted to pick up something for sis. There, I said it."

Aaaarrrgghh smiled gently. "That very nice NotEnrique."

"Ah, don't start. She's just been stressed lately, and I wanna do something nice for her. She's been putting up with a lot of grumpy trolls lately." NotEnrique grunted. "It's my fault the boggarts got out anyway."

"It okay. We find them." Aaarrrgghh followed NotEnrique's directions to a small, bright candy store. The rock candy bins were noticeably empty, but there was no shortage of other bright, sugary treats. Aaarrrgghh surreptitiously crept around the crowd and inhaled deeply by the bins.

The boggarts had been here. He stood outside for several minutes, drinking in the scent and identifying it. He headed down the street with the changeling holding onto the box, following the smell with new purpose.

* * *

Two days flew by. Jim stayed at his mother's house for the most part to focus on his studying, and in the evenings he met Claire at the college to rehearse. Aaarrrgghh texted intermittently – he was on the trail, but the boggarts kept moving. He paused during daylight and hid out in old buildings or the sewer. Jim fretted after him, but Blinky assured him that Aaarrrgghh was enjoying himself. "He's gone out to look for supplies for a few days at a time before. It's more of a challenge when the target is moving."

The fit of irritation that had held New Trollmarket had vanished along with most of the stonescale. Bagdwella's wares, previously coated in brownie spit, were all changed a little for the better. Cracks were mended, surfaces were shinier. Crystals everywhere were growing faster than before, increasing the food supply for all. And the brownies were chipper again, and they had slowed their spitting. "It's very tiring to use so much magic. They wanted to make a good first impression. They've agreed to limit the spit to a few days before the full moon," Mordred told them. He'd returned to Arcadia after a day, skittish being kept underground.

Friday came and the play drew nearer. Jim was torn between relief and petrification. And Claire did a lot of praying.

* * *

"You'll do fine." Claire's nervous tapping belied her calm tone. Jim was still reading over his lines, mouthing them.

"We both know the parts. Just…agh, it's Beauty and the Beast. It's a big play. People _know_ this play. There are expectations!" He breathed out slowly. "Okay. Let's check on Blink and then we can go. Things should be fine, I just want to be sure." He got out of his chair, Claire rising with him, jumpy.

They left his alcove and stopped by Blinky's, Claire fighting the urge to chew her fingernails. Not seeing the troll, they checked the infirmary. Blinky was within, expression dour. He was staring at his phone. "Yes…they're here. I…oh, this is not good."

"What is it Blinky? We were about to head out, is something wrong?" In answer Blinky showed them his screen. Aaarrrgghh was on the screen, though it was weird for Jim to see his own face looking back. "Aaarrrgghh?"

The troll shifted his phone. "Boggarts have led us all over town. But they stop here."

"We're sure of it." NotEnrique poked his head out from under the large hoodie. "Even I can smell goblins nearby."

Claire's heart surged into her mouth. "Oh my gosh! Where are you guys?"

The two uneasily moved the phone so they could see the building in the background. Claire let out a dismayed cry. Because right the two was the very familiar college theatre, with banners proclaiming, "Tonight only, Beauty and the Beast! Free entry! Come support the arts!"

"That's unbelievable. They ended up there? Of all the places, the boggarts went to the one place we know goblins have been prowling!?" Jim pulled at his hair. "The others will be showing up any minute to get set up, the play's in a few hours!" The sun would set soon – Aaarrrgghh was hidden in the shadows of the building, as the glamor provided no protection from the sun – and Claire imagined hundreds of tiny, angry creatures loose on campus. It wasn't a pretty picture. "We have to get them all out."

"Aaarrrgghh will go inside, keep them from leaving if can. Hurry." The call ended and Blinky put it away.

"We have to get them all out but keep them from running. And keep the goblins from hurting the boggarts. Great. This is fantastic!" Claire sat on the nearest cot, fighting the sensation of tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Okay, what's up?" Barbara poked her head into the infirmary. Kwagga was hanging on to her shoulder, looking groomed and neat, and Claire realized the goblin had started _willingly_ bathing. "He needs help reaching his back," Barbara said as means of explanation. "I hear despair and possible tears." Claire felt Jim's arm around her shoulders. Jim relayed the situation and Barbara listened intently.

"I have an idea about how to get the boggarts to come back," he finished. "But the goblins are another problem."

She offered Claire a tissue and fixed them with a steely look. "Call your friend Kim, let her know about the goblins and boggarts. Is it possible to get the goblins to break Fama's control?"

A clatter from the corner surprised them all. Tagga was chattering loudly, shaking the cat carrier. Jim approached the carrier and bent to look within it. "I'm sorry, I don't understand you. Is Strickler around?"

"He hasn't headed out from the high school yet, had some tests to grade. But let me see…" Barbara trailed off. She placed a call, putting it on speaker. "Walter, honey? We need some help."

"What is it darling?" Claire couldn't help but smile a little at the term of endearment. Jim's mouth quirked to the side, but there was a sort of fondness in it. "Is anyone hurt?"

"No, but we need to understand what Tagga is saying. The boggarts and goblins are both at the theatre, and the show goes on in a few hours." Barbara held the phone to Tagga, who peered at it before repeating his words.

"He's saying he can help you win the goblins over to your side. Many of them are his hive and if they can listen to him, they will." Strickler paused to allow the goblin to continue. "But it will be difficult. He has been parted from them for too long and Fama has full control. He will no longer be recognized as a hive leader."

"Can we trust him?" Blinky frowned deeply. "I would like to believe him, but we did capture him during an attack on the brownies."

"What have we got to lose?" Jim asked. "Nothing could be worse than Fama, he tried to gouge my eye out. Can we help you get control back?" He unlocked the cat carrier and Tagga crawled out, gibbering.

"He says that having even one hive member following him would increase his sway. It would give him the authority of a hive leader. But that would require a goblin to subject themselves to his leadership."

"Waka-chak-chaka!" Kwagga hopped down, looking sharply at Tagga and chattering at him. The older goblin seemed stunned and then grateful. Claire watched in bemusement as the two touched their foreheads together and Kwagga blinked, shaking himself and looking thoughtful.

"…I believe Kwagga just submitted himself to Tagga's control." Strickler sounded a little surprised. Jim turned to Kwagga, who stood resolutely beside the older goblin.

"Kwagga…thank you. But why? You're really okay with that?" The younger goblin nodded and spoke into the phone, waiting for a translation upon finishing.

"He says that Tagga obviously cares for his kin. He's fretting after them, and that Kwagga has been very fortunate to live in Trollmarket for so much of his life. He believes that the other goblins would live in peace if only they had leaders that would let them. He also believes Tagga is one of them, and he's willing to help him if it means more of his kin will have a chance at their own lives."

Claire stroked Kwagga's head. "That's very brave of you. We'll do our best to bring them all back safe." He growled in a pleased way, letting her scratch behind his ears. "I'll call Kim. Let's get going – we've got brownies, goblins, and a show to save!"

* * *

"So there are about a hundred magical creatures inside that are angry, ten that want to eat those creatures because they've been brainwashed or are just horrible, and a troll that looks like a human with another tiny troll on his back. And you're going to try to get them all out without anyone noticing or getting hurt, and get back in time to do the show." Kim looked at Claire and Jim, face waxy. "How long do you need?"

"As long as you can give us." Jim ignored the sensation of Tagga and Kwagga shifting under his jacket. The girl was overwhelmed enough; seeing two goblins for herself might push her too far. "We won't let the play be ruined. Just stall long enough for us to settle the situation, please."

Kim checked her phone. "The others will be here in fifteen minutes." She stared at the door. "I'll do what I can. But please…keep the play intact. I couldn't bear it if-"

Claire nodded, expression set. "We won't let it be ruined," she said, echoing Jim. "We need to get in there, now."

Kim unlocked the door, hands shaking. "Let me know if I can help more. Good luck." Jim didn't know what to make of her; she had questioned them so little. But he heard her breathing – it was one he'd heard before, when his mother had realized James Lake was never coming back. A panicked breath, trying to keep calm. Maybe she wasn't asking anything more because she couldn't handle it.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and when she jerked her head to look at him, Jim said, "It's okay. We've got this."

And with that he and Claire were inside the building, the door clicking shut behind them. Jim considered troll form and decided against it. It wouldn't do to startle either group. Claire took his hand and they crossed the lobby, decorated for the play in gold and paper roses, and headed back into the theatre itself.

At first they didn't see anything, though the skitter of little paws and the hisses of angry goblins echoed. It was Claire who looked up first and pointed. High above their heads, in the rafters and lights, the tiny creatures loomed like an army of angry squirrels, facing down a tiny group of goblins.

And, much to Jim's surprise, the goblins were no longer a threat. They had stunned looks on their faces, and were tied back to back in a mass of string. Bruises and bite marks covered them, and more than one had a black eye. NotEnrique stood in front of them, glaring at the brownies. "Look you lot, I know you hate these fellas. But we ain't doing anything else until the Trollhunter and my sis get here!"

"NotEnrique!" she called. He jumped, peering down at her.

"Sis! Perfect timing. Aaarrrgghh can't come up here, he'll bust the metal!" Jim started, finally noticing Aaarrrgghh crouching in his real form in the aisles, shifting uneasily as if to try to catch anyone that fell. "And these boggarts are pretty cheesed off. Let's just say the goblins didn't have a prayer."

One snarled and threw a wad of paper at him. NotEnrique glared back at it. "Get your skinny behinds up here! Unless you want goblin mash to stain the seats!"

Fama shrieked in fury, kicking and glowing with purple fire. The threads sizzled, but the other goblins cried out in pain where the heat burned them.

Tagga climbed out the neck of Jim's jacket, Kwagga following him. He roared at Fama, who was so surprised he stopped the flames, staring down. The boggarts followed his gaze, ears pricked. Kwagga growled beside the older goblin.

Fama spat. "You no hive leader now. Fama is fragwa of hive! Stupid goblin!"

Tagga's face darkened in fury. He sputtered and puffed before managing, "…No…hurt…my…goblins!"

Jim took Claire's hand and they sidled to the wall, transfixed. "Since when can he talk?" Jim asked.

"He's been in the infirmary a few days now…and blood goblins can talk, so who knows?" Claire eyed the rafters and metal beams. "Think you can get up there?"

"As a troll, yes. But I need to be in human form or I'll bust them too." Jim scanned the wall. "I have an idea. Help Tagga and Kwagga distract them."

Jim shifted to troll form and took to the stairs, moving as quietly as possible. When he came out onto the mezzanine he could see the situation much more clearly. The boggarts were more interested by the situation than angry at the goblins, but if that didn't last, they could jump and push the group of goblins down at any moment.

"Not your goblins! Mine! You old and weak!" Fama wriggled again and a few threads popped. "You have weak goblin following you, traitor from market!"

"Kwagga no traitor! Market not bad!" Tagga turned to Aaarrrgghh, who lifted him and Kwagga and pitched them upward so they could reach the rafters. They clambered onto the beams, and Tagga's goblins chittered in fear to see him wobble. "Messy place but nice! Didn't treat Tagga bad! People friends there! And it wrong to eat brownies – they help market, are not food!"

Jim gathered himself and sprang from the mezzanine up to the rafters, shifting to human form as his hands latched onto one of the beams. His stomach dropped when the rafters creaked, but he hauled himself up with difficulty so he could crouch on it. He didn't dare to put on the armor – there were already enough creatures up here, and any extra weight could be too much. The boggarts turned and hissed, but Jim pulled his phone out. "Before you freak out, take a look at this. The trolls have been working on an apology gift. Your friend is okay, I promise."

He selected a picture and held it up so they could see it. Several black, furry creatures picked their way toward him, squinting at it. "They've been working on homes for you. They realize now you were trying to help. We want you to stay in New Trollmarket, and not just because you can help make it better. We want everyone to be able to live together. Even if some of them do draw on the walls or are really grumpy." He lowered the phone, legs shaking. The boggarts murmured and ran back to their group, muttering. Jim's heart pounded as he waited, wondering if the sight of hundreds of holes carved into the crystal veins along a wall would be enough to soften the angry hearts.

It was a beautiful picture, one of honeycombed openings for the brownies to live in close proximity to each other. Mordred's model had provided reference, and the craftsmen among the trolls had carved tunnels expertly into the mineral. Was it enough? Jim knew how hard the trolls were working – would the boggarts understand that?

One brownie lightened to a soft tan, and then another. Like tongues of flame the group lightened, and Jim grinned at the sight. They wouldn't revert unless they were willing to try again, would they?

But Fama broke free of the threads at last, the other goblins barely catching themselves as the bundle came apart. "Goblins! Kill brownies! Eat them, become strong!" Purple flames erupted along his body and the other goblins held their heads, keening.

The brownies shrieked and began jumping down into the seats, but the few that hadn't yet reverted moved as one and spat at Fama. Where their saliva hit the flames guttered, sizzling, and their tails lashed. Bright flashes and the sound of firecrackers emanated from where their tails whipped. The other goblins writhed in pain as Fama's control buckled down, and they attacked the boggarts with high leaps, springing after the furious creatures. Jim glanced down at Claire and Aaarrrgghh – they were catching batches of brownies, keeping them from falling to their deaths.

"You don't have to listen to Fama! Tagga is a hive leader too! You can live in Trollmarket if you just live in peace, just like anyone else!" The goblins whimpered, looking at Jim and then at Tagga hopefully. "Tagga, help them!"

Tagga's face screwed up in concentration, and Kwagga hollered, pumping his fists as if to cheer him on. The other goblins, green and blood alike, shook their heads and tried to skulk toward him. Fama's eyes were thunderous, and they all froze in pain again. Tagga tried again, and Jim struggled toward the goblins foot over foot. "Fama, stop it! There's no reason for this! Surrender and no one will hurt you!"

Fama snarled. "Goblins free from Gunmar! Not going to trade one master for another! No one will tell goblins what to do now!"

"Oh shut _up_!" NotEnrique had been quiet and still, all but ignored in the battle for control, but now he flung himself into the goblin, kicking him hard in the head. Fama plummeted to the ground, wailing when he hit the floor. "Ain't nobody a 'master' in New Trollmarket. We got leaders, but we have choices and opinions too! It ain't a thing like Gunmar!" Not Enrique jumped down and Claire caught him. "These people care! They won't ship you out to die if you mess up, or make you steal babies! So don't go complaining about the old days! Gunmar and his scum are gone! And you're not going to start up any trouble now that they are!"

Jim jumped down as well, shifting to troll form in time to roll and absorb the impact. He turned back, Daylight gleaming. "Fama, you won't win this battle. Just stop."

The goblin sat up, glaring at them and panting with pain. The remaining boggarts glowered down at him, and with a great leap they descended on him, tiny claws outstretched.

Jim grabbed the goblin and bent over him, the claws skittering as the boggarts bounced off and leaped away like startled cats. "No. That's enough. He can't hurt you now." He lifted his head and set Fama on the floor. The goblin gaped at him. "I mean it. There's no reason to fight. I'm not going to let you hurt the brownies for your own power. You're just like Gunmar if you go that way. But I'm not going to let them destroy you without giving you a chance to think it over."

Tagga howled with joy as he finally reached his goblins, each of them embracing him and crooning happily. Fama watched as his own blood kin gave him nervous looks and edged toward the group. Tagga turned his attention to them and their expressions relaxed. "You're not the hive leader now. But you don't need to be." Jim knelt, knees still trembling after being up so high. "Come to New Trollmarket. It's safer there, and you won't have be afraid of someone taking over goblin groups and forcing them to do dangerous, terrible things. We just want to live in peace. All of us." He directed this as the final boggarts, still staring at him. Their ears lowered slightly and the dark coloring eased back to brown. "Give it a chance. Trust me, there's a lot better things to do there than eat brownies and control people."

Fama lowered his head. "Hive leader shamed. Must die."

"Oh, sod it with that crap!" NotEnrique stomped over, irate. "You want to lay off the old garbage, or do I have to hit you again? Gumm-Gumms aren't in control anymore! We have a choice about how to live now! The Trollhunter's being real generous, so why don't you take him up on the offer?" He paused. "But gnaw a brownie's tail even once and you're out!" Jim nodded.

Tagga approached, the other goblins in tow. Fama cowered, eyes resentful. But Tagga shook his head. "You hurt my goblins. You hurt your own. But won't make it right if you die." The old goblin snorted. "You never have any hive leader that treated you good. Might like it."

"Tagga's right. What do you have to lose by seeing if New Trollmarket can be a home for you?" Claire crouched beside Jim and NotEnrique. "It's a new world Fama. Why don't you see if you like it before you dismiss it out of hand?"

Fama didn't look up at them, but he nodded at their shoes. "Fama surrender. Will…come with you."

"And you won't try anything with the brownies?" Jim added firmly.

"Fama will leave brownies alone." As if to prove it, he inclined his head to Tagga. "Know when beaten.

Jim sighed with relief. "Good. Now we need to get you guys out of here, they'll be here any minute." The brownies gathered around and the goblins approached slowly, gingerly. "How are we going to move all of them without anyone-?"

He heard the door open and Jim's heart stopped. Were they too late? Had Kim been unable to stall them? A familiar step stopped in the theatre entrance. "Well. Looks like I missed the party."

Merlin didn't look at all like himself. He was wearing khaki pants and a long black trench coat, and on his face was a set of sunglasses. A cap atop his head read, "I Went to Europe and All I Got Was This Stupid Hat." On top of this was a snowy owl, staring at all of them with bright yellow eyes. Merlin removed the sunglasses, taking in the sight. "Brownies. I wasn't sure if any of them were left!"

"What you doing here?" Aaarrrgghh asked in surprise.

"Well, I wrapped up in Russia and figured I ought to come back and check in. Blinky informed me of the situation and seemed to think I ought to come assist if possible. There are a few dozen people outside. I froze them. They were about to enter, so I though it might be helpful if they stayed outside a few minutes more." He reached up and stroked the breast feathers of the owl, who poked his finger with its beak. "This is Cato."

Jim shook his head. "I am honestly glad to see you Merlin. Think you can help Aaarrrgghh, NotEnrique, the goblins, and the brownies get back to New Trollmarket? We have a play to put on."

"A play? Interesting." The wizard looked around, shaking his head at the brownies. "Don't let those cute faces fool you, they can get mean if angered. But their magic is quite helpful, if you don't mind a little spit." Jim shook his head helplessly – of course Merlin would know. Of _course_ he'd know. The old man's fingers glowed and he patted one pocket. "All right, everybody in."

The brownies and goblins disappeared. Merlin's pocket glowed a bright green. "They'll be contained for an hour. That should be plenty of time to get back to the market." Aaarrrgghh said nothing, merely picking up NotEnrique and sliding on the glamor mask. "Anyway, I suppose I'll see you back at the market. The spell won't last much longer, so those college students will be coming in at any moment." He strode out of the room, Aaarrrgghh in tow. NotEnrique freed himself from the gentle grip, grabbing a mass of cellophane from the troll's sweater as he dropped.

"I'm sticking around. I've only seen sis in one play, I kinda wanna see her in another." He handed her the cellophane. "I was gonna give that to you after the show. But uh…figure you need a pick-me-up after all this. Claire peeled the wrap away to review a single red rose, a little wilted and abused from a day hidden in a sweater. .

Claire knelt, scooped NotEnrique up in one arm, and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. He squawked in dismay. "You're the sweetest little jerk around. You know that, bro?"

"Yeah yeah! Lemme down, I gotta find a hiding spot!" He hopped back down and took off, disappearing into a hall and leaving Jim and Claire alone in the theatre. The doors in the front of the building opened and Jim stowed the amulet in his pocket.

Kim dashed in first, eyes wide. "Everything okay?" She glanced around and Claire nodded. "No…uninvited guests?"

"Nary a one. And I don't think there ever will be again." Kim sighed deeply and Jim could have sworn her whole body slumped with relief.

"You guys missed it. There was some guy outside with an owl on his head. Get all kinds in Hoboken." An actor thumped Jim on the shoulder. "Nervous newbie?"

Jim's relief faded into nerves. They'd cleared out the brownies and goblins. Now he had to act in front of a crowded theatre. But Claire took his arm and squeezed his hand. Her hand was a little sweaty and he realized she was as nervous as he was. Jim met the gaze of the actor and said, "Not really. No reason to be nervous. I'm working with talented, seasoned actors." He nudged Claire. "Especially this one."

She blinked up at him. Then she smiled, and Jim managed to breathe evenly. "Yeah. No worries."

* * *

"I'm here. Everything…everything will be all right." There were tears in her eyes. Jim hoped his horn wasn't poking her side, because they both knew from experience that getting poked with one of those really hurt.

"I'm glad I got to see you…one last time." He reached up and touched her face. She held his hand and Jim let it drop, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall – carefully – into her lap.

"No! No, no…don't…" she whispered, tucking her head over his. "I love you." Her hair smelled really nice, floral and sweet. Jim tried not to inhale, both because it would show he was alive and because it would seem really creepy. Murmurs from the audience rose and he held his face as still as possible.

"Mommy, is he gonna be okay?"

"She said she loves him, the spell should break!"

"I hate that mean guy that stabbed him! I think the beast is cute!" He almost lost it at that one, and he felt Claire tremble. He wasn't sure if it was a laugh or a sob, but the "tower" began to turn as the music swelled. He opened one eye and Claire lifted her head a little.

"You're good," she whispered. Jim returned to human form, Daylight flashing as his armor went pale. Claire winked and lowered her head against so she was covering his face. The tower stopped rolling and Jim shifted.

"Belle?" She sat up sharply, revealing his face. Standing up, Claire backed away, as if frightened, and Jim rose slowly. "It's me!"

She stared at him for a moment before joy spread over her face. "It _is_ you!" She hurled herself into his arms and Jim spun her around, the kids in the audience cheering. Jim took her face gently in one hand and drew her in for a kiss, the lights around them flashing to simulate magic. The other actors rushed the stage, a euphoric mass, reenacting the castle coming to life.

By the time they took their bows, Jim was almost loopy with relief. He looked up and felt weak in the knees at how many people there were – _so_ many more people than in Romeo and Juliet – and most of them barely waist-high. But they were happy. Really, really happy.

He glanced at Claire. "I think I get why you like this." She beamed at him. Jim felt his face redden a little when he spotted James in the back row. The man waved, opening his jacket a little to reveal NotEnrique hiding under it, shooting them a toothy grin.

When they got backstage Kim attacked them with a hug. "You guys were all so, so, so great! Oh my gosh, did you see those faces!? Those kids had the best time!" She went around to everyone, hugging them in turn. "Okay everyone, one more hour. The kids want to meet the characters, so remember, stay in character! These little ones are the future of the world of the arts!"

Claire looked radiant in the golden dress. Her hair was in a high knot, and though she complained that the petticoat made her look like a walking blimp, Jim thought she made Belle look plain. Emma Watson and the animated version. A small table had been set up in the lobby for all the characters so the kids could meet them.

Jim sat beside Claire, and he watched the kids come up to her with starry eyes, delighted to meet a "real princess." One of them was a little girl, maybe four. "You're pretty," she informed Claire. She then turned to Jim. "Are you okay? That mean guy stabbed you."

"Oh, I'm fine. Magic fixed it up." She had big green eyes and a solemn face, hair blond. "Did you have fun?"

"Uh huh. I liked the show a bunch." The girl looked from him to Claire. "Are you gonna get married? I ship you two."

It was all either of them could do to keep from dissolving into fits of giggles after that.

End of Chapter 8

* * *

I foresee one more chapter for this story, with much romantic fluffy goo because I can write what I please. I hope you have enjoyed this little foray, as the next story will be much less light-hearted. But have no less familial bonding.


	9. Chapter 9

Greetings to you all! I had a little extra time so I managed to finish this chapter up. I hope you've had fun with this side path story – and if you didn't, ah well. I can only write what I like – and you'll find a treat at the end of this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 9

No Worries

* * *

Toby folded his arms, jaw set. "I missed literally everything! Seriously."

"I got it on tape! No worries. Also don't tell anyone I taped it, I'm not distributing it for money or anything." James handed Toby the camcorder, hurrying to the tunnel opposite them. "They were awesome, no question."

Toby looked it over, checking the film and nodded carefully. "Thanks, I'm looking forward to it." Claire tilted her head toward him and Toby whispered, "I don't have the heart to tell him he didn't have any room on the SD card. I'm sure you all were awesome."

Jim was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. He was also blindfolded. "Guys, I promise I won't open my eyes." Blinky had just pulled in the Vespa, carrying it so it wouldn't make a noise, James helping by holding the other side.

"Hm, can we trust you Jimbo? With your halo and honesty?" Toby stroked his chin. "Got an idea. Claire, take off the blindfold and cover his eyes with your hands. Remove the temptation." She shook her head amusedly but obeyed, taking the blindfold off and placing her fingers in its stead. "I think the Grand Foyer is getting to be pretty nice."

Thanks to the brownies, the crystal veins were flush with color, creeping up the walls and filling the room with light. James helped Blinky arrange the Vespa and Toby checked his phone; he and Claire had to get on the gyre soon so she could get to the hair appointment with Darci and Mary. The only thing he knew about Darci's dress was that it was purple. He had a purple bow tie to match it. And he'd gotten her an iris corsage, safely tucked in the Lake household fridge.

In all honesty, Toby wasn't upset to have missed the mess with the boggarts and goblins. The brownies were all back, happy in their crystal-carved homes. The goblins…well, that would be a work-in-progress. Fama was in the cat carrier now, although he too seemed to have a fondness for chocolate that goblins shared. The stonescale was gone, people were only moderately grumpy now, and the current company had survived until Jim's seventeenth birthday. So all in all, pretty good.

Barbara and Strickler stood behind the chair, Barbara looking nervous. "I'm sure it will be fine dear," Strickler murmured, leaning in and whispering something in her ear. Jim fidgeted nervously.

Blinky dusted all four hands off, scuttling over to Jim. "Very well. I think we're set. Happy seventeenth birthing day Master Jim!" Claire uncovered his eyes and Jim blinked, and he couldn't stop a grin from spreading over his face. "Perhaps this will help with travel in and to the city. And your mother insists you wear the helmet." Blinky stood back, James behind him, watching nervously. "James and I went in together to get the parts and build it."

"Blinky built it. I'm not so great with machines, I sent him needed parts. But yeah, team effort," James clarified. Toby's guilt about the armor lessened when Jim turned and hugged both Blinky and James. The former accepted it warmly and the latter looked like a small child excited to be trusted with something valuable.

"Thank you guys. You didn't need to do this. But I do love it." Jim inspected the machine, shaking his head in disbelief. "It looks so much like the old one!"

"I mean it about the helmet mister." Barbara gave the device a suspicious glance. "I know it's silly to worry about a Vespa of all things, considering all the other stuff you do, but I still want you to be careful."

Merlin cleared his throat. They'd nearly forgotten him against the wall. "Yes, yes, all very good. I also have things to hand out." Toby looked at the old man, surprised. "I think they're called souvenirs?"

James turned around, jaw hanging a little. "You actually got souvenirs for people? On purpose? Who _are_ you?"

"Oh can it. In the travel guides I read it's supposedly seen as respectable to purchase tokens of interest and give them to people that didn't travel with one." He reached into his trench coat pockets – he seemed to have become irrationally fond of long coats – and pulled out an item at a time. "I wasn't sure what everyone liked."

He put a snow globe with a tiny model of Buckingham Palace in Toby's had, a keychain of the Eiffel Tower went to Jim, and a jeweled egg went to Claire. She grunted at the weight of it, holding it in both hands. "Thank you Merlin. That's…actually rather sweet of you," she managed. "You have to tell us how everything went! Russia especially, we were worried about you!"

"Oh, that Bratva thing. Yes." He waved a hand disinterestedly, a teddy bear was the next item to come out, easily the size of Toby. He handed this to James. "That's for Mordred. Well, after our conversation I used my magic to detain them and find out where they were based in St. Petersburg. I went there, found that they were not the friendliest of folks, and it all ended with a large number unconscious mobsters. I had to take off after that, so I'm not sure about how things went."

Toby googled "Bratva" and whistled. "You broke a huge drug ring. Millions of dollars worth are now in police custody. That's actually really cool. It's on the news, look."

Merlin shrugged. "It was moderately exciting. And I've unloaded all the artifacts I recovered in the locked room. Incidentally, I picked this up in a tunnel a few days before I left and quite forgot it." He opened his hand and a cubic zirconia ring sparkled from his palm. "I meant to give it to someone. Does it belong to any of the ladies?"

Toby took it. "Chompsky's going to be ecstatic."

* * *

Claire turned to the left, then to the right. "Wow. The hairdresser was right. It really suits the dress to have my hair up."

"Girl, I love it. Red is such a good color on you." Darci was dazzling in plum, a long, sweeping gown that complemented her tall form. Her jewelry was gold and Claire privately thought she looked like a movie star. Mary was just as lovely, dark hair swept over her shoulder with gold pins in it, a shorter gold dress showing off her smooth skin. And Claire's dress was ruffled on the hem like a flamenco dress, slimmed up a bit to match the prom theme. She'd never worn such dark lipstick, but it made her feel mature.

"Turn just a little, princesa. You girls are growing into such beautiful ladies!" Dad took pictures as they moved, and Claire smiled bashfully when he sniffled. "Seems like yesterday I was attending tea parties with you."

Enrique cackled and Mom smiled, bouncing him and Walter Jr. on either arm. "You girls look radiant. Like your quinciñera, remember?"

Claire did. The dress had been much flouncier per her mother's request – it was nice to be in a dress she had selected and paid for. Toby poked his head into the room, cheeks bright red. "You beautiful ladies are not allowed to laugh at me in a tux. Got it?" He sidled out, and Claire was surprised to see that his bow tie was straight, his hair combed back looked neat, and altogether he was a dapper little image.

"You look good TP!" Darci pulled him into the pictures, and Toby's blush brightened. "Come here handsome, get in some of these!"

Mary and Claire moved out of the way, letting the couple take the camera time. Nana Domzalski would want pictures she knew, and Dad took several from various angles. Claire leaned in toward Mary. "So it really was quits with Hank?"

"Yep. Haven't talked in months. But that's totally cool – I can dance with whoever I want now. Providing they're unattached I suppose." Mary sat on the stair, Claire mimicking her. High heels looked awesome but they hurt like a dickens. "Sorry Jimmy Jam can't make it."

"It's fine. He has a test to finish, and I can have a night out with you girls." And that was true for the most part. But looking at Toby and Darci posing and looking goofy, she couldn't help but feel a little hollow. She wasn't between boyfriends like Mary – she had an incredible one. He'd memorized an entire play in two weeks for her. But she could still enjoy the evening, even if it would have been better with him.

"I'm ready to take you all now. I think Gertrude will love these." Dad turned and gave Mom a kiss, then smooched Enrique and Walter Jr. on the foreheads. "Come on ladies and gentleman!"

"Thanks for driving us Mr. Nuñez. I'm still not allowed to have minors only in the car. And I don't have a car," Toby added. Claire watched Arcadia dash by in a blur of light as they took off down the streets. The school had rented an event room in a hotel in the city – the implication there was that if teens were going to drink or engage in general insensible behavior, at least they wouldn't get killed in an accident – but no fewer than fifteen faculty members would be chaperoning the party. And Señor Uhl had an impeccable nose for trouble, as they all knew.

They arrived and with a kiss to her father's cheek, they entered the building and gaped. White lights were strung on tables and chairs, tea lights in lanterns on each table. The dance floor was hardwood and polished, and the brightness of dresses and flowers was almost too much. Claire was swamped by so many familiar faces that it nearly floored her. That was Shannon? She looked so different with longer hair and a little makeup! Eli's voice was still cracking, but the pitch was lower. And Steve…well, Steve actually looked about the same. A little more groomed maybe, but he was comfortingly familiar. "Ladies. Toby."

Toby drew up. "Dude, you know my name. I thought you thought it was 'Buttsnack Two' or something."

"Don't push it Domzalski. The Creepslaying has put a dent in my pent-up aggression." Steve rolled his eyes when Eli elbowed him. "If any of you lovely ladies are in need of a male on the dance floor, I can offer my services."

"And be sure to vote for prom king and queen!" Eli rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Maybe this will be the year of Eli, huh?"

"Maybe bud." Steve shoved him good-naturedly. "Speaking of Buttsnack, where is he?"

Claire faltered. "He has an exam this evening. So he's not able to make it."

"Oh. Right, he missed a few months of school, huh?" Steve put his hands in his pockets. "Well, we can party without Lake, right?" Claire forced a smile onto her face and nodded.

Much to her surprise, she did have fun. The teachers watched like hawks, and Uhl had a ruler he used to measure the space between students. There was no one foolish enough to attempt dirty dancing under his watchful eye.

Toby, as it turned out, could indeed "cut a rug like a jitterbug." He and Darci where a whirl of feet and dance steps, and Claire danced with Mary and Eli and Steve in a group. The music was loud, and whoever the DJ was, they had some sense – what had his name been? Kyle? No, maybe Krel – and played a number of Papa Skull songs.

Inevitably, as the evening drew on, romantic songs began to play, and Claire took a seat to rest, bobbing her foot to the melody. Eli's ears flared scarlet when Mary commandeered him for one, and Toby whispered something to Darci across the floor, cutting off their slow dance. Darci grinned and nodded. He then hurried across the floor to Claire's seat.

"Come with me." She blinked but stood up, Toby taking her hand and leading her to the other side of the room. "Got a surprise for ya."

He led her to the door, but instead of going through he released her hand and bowed. "I'll leave you here and return to milady." He winked at her and took off, leaving her muddled.

Then Jim stepped through the door and Claire put a hand to her mouth in shock. "You…but…your test!"

Jim smiled, looking embarrassed. "I have never sat for an exam in a tux before. And I might have fumbled some of the essay questions at the end. Though to be fair, I'm not good at essay questions anyway." He stepped toward her and Claire didn't know who had helped him comb his hair so neatly – slicked to to the side, neater than she'd ever seen it – or how he'd gotten a suit, but the effect was one she loved.

"Did you plan this?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and Jim took her waist, and they moved in a slow circle.

"It was Darci's idea to make it a surprise. I was pretty sure I could make it for half of prom at least, even with the test, but we thought it would be fun to do. And you needed some time with your friends. It worked out well." He glanced to the side. "You look really beautiful."

Claire sighed and put her head on his shoulder. "You're not so bad yourself. Let me guess…your mom helped with the suit."

"Yep."

"And…Strickler with the bow tie."

"Also correct."

"And your hair. I love it like that. Um…James?"

He snickered. "Blinky. But we are invited back to my Dad's for popcorn and movie night after this. Mordred's allowed to stay up and pick movies on Saturday nights."

"Nice." The song ended and drifted into something faster, but they didn't break apart. They were far enough away from the others that it didn't matter, and she spied Uhl nudging two older teens into a couple instead of a mass of intertwined limbs. "I'm glad everything's slowed down some. I kind of missed just spending time together."

"Same here. I got so wrapped up in trying to cover everything, and graduate on time. But…I don't think it'll kill anyone if it takes an extra semester for me to graduate, do you?" She shook her head, fighting a grin.

"You know, I think Merlin's souvenir is actually a real Fabergé egg." He cocked his head. "There were only a certain number made for the Romanov family. I think he found a real one somehow. I'll have to get that to a Russian embassy somehow."

"Mordred loved the bear. Dad sent Merlin a video of his reaction to getting it. I don't think I've ever seen Merlin really smile like that." Jim sighed. "Why are we talking about this stuff?"

"Because if we start kissing, Señor Uhl will see and tear us a new one." He laughed and Claire stepped back, tugging him toward the others. "C'mon, let's dance with the others. They'll be glad to see you."

"Glad to laugh at me looking like a spastic pigeon more like." But he followed her anyway, and a few people lit up and waved as they approached. "Hi guys."

"Well well, if it isn't Prince Buttsnack." Steve knocked him between the shoulder blades, making him cough. Mary rolled her eyes.

"He's been waiting months to call you that. Ever since he found out King Arthur is your dad." Jim turned to Steve.

"Hey Steve. Dad says you guys have been doing really well helping patrol Arcadia Oaks. So even if you want to act like a Neanderthal, I just want you to know that I appreciate that." Steve stared and his jaw jutted out.

"What am I even supposed to say to that? Ugh." Eli jumped forward, hugging Jim, who grunted before returning the motion. "Eli's glad to see you anyway, so I guess I can put up with you."

"Hello? Can everyone hear me?" The young man DJ-ing looked a little amused. "Wow, listen to that echo. Everybody, it's time to announce the prom king and queen. Which, as I understand it, does not actually come with political power." A few people laughed. "First up is the queen." Ms. Janeth handed him a card and he read it carefully before saying, "Darci Scott! Give it up everybody!"

Toby beamed and kissed Darci on the cheek. "Get up there, Darce!" She took the stairs and Claire thought she _did_ look quite royal as she stood in front of everyone.

Krel blinked. "Oh, wow, you do not need this thingy. Here, you can have it, but you look too good to mess with it." He handed her a plastic tiara and Darci blushed. "And let's see who the king is?" Ms. Janeth handed over another card. "And the prom king is…Eli Pepperjack!"

There was silence for a single second. Then they all erupted in a massive cheer, Eli's jaw hanging. Steve nudged him toward the stairs. "Get up there man! Year of Eli!"

Eli made it up the steps without stumbling too much and Krel put the crown on his head. "You're one of the guys that helps protect the town, right? Very cool. Everybody give it up for the prom king and queen!"

The applause continued and Claire thought it frankly perfect. Steve snapped a few pictures on his phone, and the only people that seemed less than pleased were a couple of football players. Noticing Claire studying them, Steve ducked his head and said, "I may have made some threats. A couple of them were tearing down Eli's posters so I…encouraged them vigorously to cease and desist."

Claire shook her head. "You know, you're not a bad friend to have Steve."

"Well, Eli's the first real friend I ever had." Steve shrugged and Claire's heart warmed. "You ever tell him I said that and I'll give Lake a swirly. I don't hit girls."

She had to laugh then. Jim turned his head, surprised at the sound, and she wrapped one arm around his waist. "Happy Birthday Jim." He smiled at her and they snuck a kiss under the tumult. And the rest of the night the only thing they worried about was not stepping on each other's feet.

The End

* * *

The next tale will take some time to prep, but keep an eye out for "Fractured" – it's in the same vein as "Like Father like Son," and though this tale will be referenced, you won't be lost if you've only read the first. As a treat for you staying tuned through my chatter, here is the summary for the next story:

 _Claire doesn't know what the creature is. She doesn't know how she's supposed to control the insane amounts of magic flowing through her. And she doesn't know where that thing took Jim, or why. But she does know one thing – she's getting him back. No matter what._


End file.
